


Forever Upon a Time

by Rayac



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: F/M, Riddles, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-29
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:48:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 71,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26174491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayac/pseuds/Rayac
Summary: Four years ago, Jareth broke the rules when he reordered time. Now, Time is fighting back. Can two adversaries work together to save the greatest gift taken for granted?
Relationships: Jareth/Sarah Williams
Comments: 42
Kudos: 89





	1. Chapter 1

Sarah Williams' twentieth birthday never came.

Her last day as a teenager had started normally enough. She had knocked her unsounded alarm clock off the nightstand at precisely 7:08 A.M., charred her cinnamon toast to match her hair, and watched her 7:35 bus to campus tear off down the road seconds before she reached the stop. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Perhaps it should be explained that Sarah Williams' definition of 'normal' was a bit skewed.

It hadn't always been that way. Sarah had for some time lived an average life. She had a roof over her head, hot meals on the table, and a family that abused her just enough to prove that they were the authority figures in the household.

Like many girls her age, Sarah had created an escape; a passion for the fantastical which she desperately clung to when she had no place else to go. It really should have come as no surprise to her father and stepmother if they had cared to consider the need. One great thing about the mythical was that you could never be judged or ignored by creations of your own imagination.

And so she let the obsession grow, eventually leading her to act out the fairytales in the shelter of park trees and dwell in a bedroom lined with childish trinkets without consequence.

Until one stormy autumn night some four years ago.

Sarah, in a flash of petulance, had done the unthinkable; wish away her stepbrother to an entirely different world. Although she had crossed bogs, dodged reckless goblins, and kept her head on straight to save him from the villainous Goblin King, she had lost something else in the process; any chance that her life would ever be normal again. For when one has the ability to summon magical friends through a vanity mirror, who has time for schoolwork?

Time was such a precious thing. Sarah learned that lesson the hard way.

It began slowly, almost so slow that she shrugged it off as exhaustion. The morning after the Incident, (as she called it in her mind), time started playing tricks on the brunette. Clocks would repeat the same minute once or twice, or skip five minutes altogether. Once, Sarah listened in half-horror as her grandfather clock chimed thirty-six times during a family lunch at what should have been noon.

The worst part was that none of them seemed to notice. Nobody did, in fact. Certainly nobody in _her_ world.

She knew enough to blame the problem on Underground magic.

She'd talked with her Labyrinth companions practically every week since the shifts started, but gathered little helpful information on her dilemma. Ludo, hulking and simple, had fawned over 'Sawah…time' as the period he was able to visit his raven-haired savior. Sir Didymus was more understandable, but his suggestion to attack the vile timepieces hadn't produced favorable results. She wasn't sure she'd ever attempt his other, primarily quest based, offers anytime soon. Hoggle was the most knowledgeable. Intently listening to Sarah backtrack through her entire journey, he couldn't help but grin during a few familiar recollections. But Sarah had noticed two frowns as well; one near her run in with the cleaners and the other during the final confrontation.

When she had pressed him about the queasy look he'd fronted, he tried to shake her off.

"'S probably nothing, missy. That rat Jareth just pulled some nasty tricks outta his sleeves…some I'd never ever seen before or since."

That was all she had to go on. Jareth.

Since she'd gladly choose hell or high-water over calling the conniving monarch, Sarah slipped into Time's charm, stubbornly determined to solve the problem on her own.

She had of course tried the direct approach: winding clocks herself when they skipped or turning them off altogether. Per Didymus' aforementioned suggestion, she had smashed all of the clocks in her English building during a particularly tiring third hour of her Victorian Lit seminar last semester. The college deans rewarded her accordingly. Time unfortunately continued its obstreperous leaps.

It was a distressing experience to say the least. When time leapt, her entire world leapt with it. Sarah couldn't begin the count the number of conversations she'd repeated in a ten minute span when those same ten minutes replayed over and over again.

Furthermore, time had a childish habit of repeating the moments she'd despised most - awkward fumbles of boys she had no interest in or the rants of her stepmother - and skipping over those she'd pined for. She couldn't remember most of her high school graduation even though she knew she'd lived through it. Her father's mantle photos were constant mocking reminders.

Sarah's life was, presumably, quite frustrating.

Over the years, the phenomenon only worsened. To Sarah's rising distress, repeat or skipped minutes became an hour, and an hour became two until she had trouble keeping up with where and _when_ she was. To combat this, she had started carrying around pads of paper, jotting down blurts of time which fell out of place. In this manner, Sarah had attempted to keep her life in sync.

The notes didn't help enough.

Sarah's school friends quickly noticed something was up. Although they were impervious to Time's charm, they had been spelled early on by Sarah's zealous fantasies and dramatic flair. When she started to lose track of when she was, keeping the fantastic persona became more trying.

Even that afternoon, her co-worker and good friend had attempted to reignite the dreamer's spark.

"Come on Sarah, I know you've got to be excited. It's your twentieth tomorrow!" James Allen had goaded. "Aren't you a little bit curious about our grand plan?"

Sarah had given the boy a wan smile and a half-hearted nod of her head, letting him lead her on with hints and humoring him with wild guesses.

She already knew the plans.

Jumping back and forth through time had its small advantages; just not enough to lure Sarah into praising the phenomenon. She had never wanted psychic powers.

Considering all this, making it to an eight o'clock class on her last morning as a teenager, already an impressive task, would have been a superhuman feat for the dreamer. As Sarah was neither superhuman nor lucky, she had slipped into class a full twenty minutes late and spent the entire day struggling to catch up; including the afternoon and partial evening she worked in the campus coffee shop alongside James serving hot beverages to impatient students.

And so Sarah found herself characteristically exhausted during her last evening as a teenager. She had unlocked her apartment door, shaking her umbrella angrily while shucking her rain boots into the hall closet. After setting the umbrella open to dry, she grabbed a black bound journal from a hallway table, and thumbed it dejectedly.

Per recent count, she had been running over twelve hours repeat a day. The marathons were one of the reasons she had begged James to get her a job at the coffee shop. Caffeine was a constant, but expensive, necessity.

After microwaving some leftover pasta, the girl had eaten alone in her room while she studied the significant patterns in her time keeping book for the current year.

_January 1st, 1990: 8 hours_

_January 2nd, 1990: 8 hours, 4 minutes_

_January 3rd, 1990: 8 hours, 3 minutes_

_January 4th, 1990: 8 hours, 6 minutes._

_January 5th, 1990: 8 hours, 7 minutes._

She had stopped there, aware of the rest of the numbers. It had become her nightly routine to stare at the tallies in hope that the lead would fly off the page and she'd wake up from this never-ending hell.

Flipping to the last page of white paper, Sarah had focused on the whole hours.

_January 1st, 1990: 8 hours_

_February 24th, 1990: 9 hours_

_March 11th, 1990: 10 hours_

_March 20th, 1990: 11 hours_

_March 26th, 1990: 12 hours_

She penciled in the latest increase.

_March 29th, 1990: 13 hours_

She wished time would stop shifting so quickly. The tally was hurriedly increasing; just three days since she'd last marked.

Tossing the book unceremoniously to the floor, Sarah had doused her bedside lamp at eleven thirty-two, and eyed the glowing numbers on her alarm clock.

_Only twenty-eight minutes until I'm twenty…_ The thought was a small relief.

Unfortunately, Sarah Williams never made it to her twentieth birthday.

At precisely 11:59 that evening, time stopped.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

When the drumming of rain on her window instantaneously ceased, Sarah knew something was wrong.

It wasn't unlike Time to tamper with weather patterns. Replaying strong gusts or lengthening downpours happened more often than Sarah's beat-up umbrella wanted to admit. But Sarah had never been _fast-forwarded_ through a storm. Not once in four long years.

For a few minutes, she toyed with the idea of ignoring the change. Perhaps Time was giving her a break; its own birthday gift of sorts. Lord knows she was due for a reprieve.

Her clock still hadn't moved.

_Perhaps not._

Drawing her eyes from the neon 11:59, she rolled to her right side in an attempt to glimpse the sky outside. Although she had hoped otherwise, it was too dark in the room to see a mere ten feet from her bed. The situation didn't surprise her-she was unfortunately used to things not going her way. At least all she had to do was leave the warmth of her comforter.

How wrong she was.

Sliding into the fleece slippers she kept by the side of her bed, she padded across her carpet to the solitary window in the room. The sight of raindrops clinging steadfast to the pane first caught her glance. If Sarah had been honest with herself, she would have much rather turned back to the bed than allow her curiosity to take over. Unfortunately, after growing up with a dwarf, rock-calling beast, and gallant talking fox for friends, curiosity tended to win every time.

Unlocking the window, Sarah prepared herself for whatever prank Time was pulling at this late hour, breathing in then releasing the air slowly.

She pushed open the window.

Sarah Williams had seen a myriad of bizarre things in her lifetime, but none like the scene below her. Across the night air, thousands of raindrops were suspended in their barrage towards Earth. Sparkling and clear, they mirrored the fixed stars light years behind. The maple tree outside her window had bent its arms in a sickening fashion, a double-jointed statue in the night. Each arm's leafy bounty stuck out as if caught by an unyielding gust. Seeking shelter in one these branches, a small bird hovered in mid-flight.

Sarah's head was spinning.

And it wasn't just the natural which was affected. Some feet below, a few teenagers could be seen around a large puddle, poised to jump. Although Sarah wasn't sure what the students were doing dancing in the rain at midnight, she had more pressing concerns; like what she should do with the near indescribable scene in front of her.

Her world was completely frozen. Time hadn't moved through the storm, it had _paused_ it. It was if some greater being had taken a bathroom break from watching the planet, and pressed pause on his remote. Sarah hoped the deity returned soon to finish the viewing as she was at a loss about how to fix this problem on her own.

She hadn't even had any luck fixing time _shifts_.

It was time to call in reinforcements.

"Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus, I need you." Surprisingly calm, she spoke into her vanity mirror. She settled down on the blue cushioned chair attached to wait.

Nothing happened.

She tried again, with a slight trepidation. "H…Hoggle? Ludo? Sir Didymus? I need you, all of you."

The eerie silence remained and Sarah's worry increased. She knew it was late in her world, but time moved differently in the Underground. By her count, it was near mid-day for her friends. At least, that's the estimate she'd taken from the first time she'd been there.

_Time._

_That must be it_ , she thought grimly. Time had started skipping through the Underground now too. When the world is frozen, there wasn't much fun to be had tampering with it anymore. She sighed. She supposed an entirely new dimension qualified as 'moving on to bigger and better things.' Hopefully her friends were dealing with the chaos, if they noticed it at all. She still didn't know if Time was the reason her friends hadn't responded.

It was an educated guess though.

The girl returned to the open window, reaching out to catch a handful of drops. They were still perfectly wet and burst onto her hand, trickling slowly down her bare arms. It seemed that although the scene was frozen, she could adjust it with her actions. It was a small comfort to the knowledge that it looked like she was on her own.

Or was she? Perhaps there were others in her world that had noticed the shifts earlier, and just hadn't mentioned them. It was certainly possible. It was a big planet, let alone city, and Sarah didn't pretend to know everybody.

Her mind made up, she kicked her slippers back towards her bed and hurriedly grabbed a sweatshirt and her boots from the closet. After pulling the sweatshirt over her tee-shirt and cotton sweatpants, she rushed out to her hallway to explore the building first.

Her hallway was deathly silent. She tried knocking on random doors at will, hoping some old man would poke his head out and tell her off. No such luck. The brunette tore down the stairs after waiting a few minutes for the frozen elevator to no avail, and walked out into the night.

It was an odd feeling, that of moving through nothingness. No sign of life in her apartment complex or compound. As a theatre major, Sarah thrived on action and the silence was almost painful.

Ten minutes passed and still no sign of movement. Sarah broke into a jog, her sweatshirt soaking up the suspended storm like a sponge. She'd forgotten her raincoat again.

"HELLO?" Sarah screamed into the darkness. "CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME?"

Not even a cliché howling of wind. She ran a good deal further, to the child filled neighborhood nearby, to try again. Maybe some kids had a wild enough imagination to escape the pause.

"HELLO? ANYBODY? PLEASE!" Sarah's cries had turned desperate. "I NEED HELP!"

It was no use. Sarah collapsed onto the road, tears brimming in her hazel eyes. She wished someone had replied, but nobody else seemed immune. A salty tear rolled down her cheek. She had already been exhausted before Time stopped, she didn't need this new stress.

_Why me? What did I do to deserve this? It's not fair!_

Sarah hadn't spoken those words since her trip to the Labyrinth, but she couldn't keep her frustration in. She was at her wits end. What part of being alone in a frozen world—a dark and stormy one at that—classified as 'fair'? Sarah justified the whine, letting her tears cascade down her cheeks as she sobbed in the middle of the road.

There was another sound.

The brunette snapped her bloodshot eyes to the street. It was a faint thing, her sobs masking the origin, but it was definitely something. Something low and melodious; like a breathy moan or a bird's cry. Sarah wiped her face with a drenched sleeve. She needed to pull herself together and find the sound before it disappeared. Or paused.

It had to be close by, she reasoned. Otherwise she wouldn't have heard it at all. But where?

Sarah spun back in the direction of her apartment, searching the black night for movement. The frozen raindrops unfortunately added another layer of difficulty to the process, but she was certain nothing yet had shifted.

_Where did that come from? I know I heard something—_

Something small and gray reflected in the raindrops before her.

"Aha! Wait! Wait up!" Sarah called blindly at the shadow above her, not caring that animal speech was not one of her gifts. To her, the shape had resembled a bird of sorts, but it was so dark and rainy she couldn't be sure.

"Hoo…Hoo…"

Sarah froze with the surroundings. It was an owl then, she thought nervously. That wasn't a problem. There were probably hundreds in the area. So why did the sound paralyze her? _It couldn't possibly be_ …She shook the thought from her mind and shivered. Her rain soaked sweatshirt didn't appear to be drying in the paused world. And she really didn't want to stay outside anymore. She wasn't in any condition to properly consider the problem anyway; she needed at least a few hours of sleep.

She hoped Time still allowed her that.

She started to trudge back towards her apartment on autopilot. The frozen surroundings passed left and right, but Sarah didn't steal a glance. It was too much to handle at the moment. Before she knew it, she was climbing her four flights of stairs and opening her door. An unexpected brightness blinded the girl momentarily. All the lights were on in her entranceway. Sarah blinked and cracked one eye open, tears brimming once more. Not only that, they seemed to be on in her whole apartment.

_That's odd._

She definitely hadn't left them on. In fact, she was surprised there were working at all. The elevator had been stuck on the first floor all evening, trapped in Time's apparent electricity block. This was undeniably peculiar. She swallowed thickly, choking back a heavy cough. She needed inched towards the back of her apartment, passing her meager kitchen in the process.

"Please, please, let the tap water run…" The brunette eyed the ceiling as she pushed on the swinging door.

"It does for the moment, but I'd recommend something stronger."

Sarah froze. Someone was in her kitchen. A male someone.

"Something to settle you down. You always had a temper."

She knew that voice. Oh Gods, she knew it. How could anyone ever forget it? _Goblin King._

Sarah barged through the door, ready to give him a piece of her mind and a knock to the head, if necessary.

" _WHAT_ did you…" she started, trailing off as she saw him. He was sitting – no, _lounging –_ at her kitchen table, legs propped up on the chair he was not occupying. At her outburst, he carefully uncrossed them and stood.

He looked nearly the same as he had on the night she'd first seen him: dressed head to toe in black, his dark winged collar contrasting with a feathered mane of corn silk. Her eyes were drawn to the metallic sweep rising from his oddly mismatched eyes. _His eyes._ One warm brown and the other a pool of blue. But where Sarah had once seen them blaze with confidence and mirth, they now held an unsettling emptiness. He tilted his head, pursing his lips.

"This won't do at all," he muttered. "You look like a drowned cat."

"I- what?" Sarah sputtered, startled. She looked down to the small puddle forming around her feet, then back up to his eyes. "It is _raining_ ," she grit out.

" _Was_ , you mean. It appears to have stopped," he offered, pulling at the tips of his gloved fingers. "I'm sure you've noticed."

"Noticed? _NOTICED?_ " She moved towards him, eyes flaring."Of course, I've noticed. _Everything_ has stopped!" She stopped a foot away, pointing an accusatory finger at his face. " _What. Did. You. Do_?"

His expression didn't change, and he eyed her pensively, as if waiting for something. Several seconds passed and he closed his eyes, sighing. "Sit down, Sarah."

"Don't you _dare_ tell me what to do in my own apartment. You have no po-," she started, but then the world lurched and the kitchen was gone. Sarah stumbled, catching herself as she fell into a wall, then spun around to find herself back in her bedroom. The neon clock still glowed 11:59.

"You really should sit down, Sarah. Falling unconscious won't help matters." Emerging from the shadows, he pulled out her dresser chair and angled it towards her. "Sit."

"I'm fine," she shot back, shaking her head to clear the momentary dizziness. "It only lasts a few seconds and…"

"Sarah, please," he cut in, softly. "I need you to sit."

She looked back at him sharply, unsettled by his tone, but he was hidden in the shadows. If she was going to have a conversation with the Goblin King, she needed to see him. "I can't see you."

The moonlight caught his face as he moved into the space in front of her open window. Shifting his weight, he eyed her expectantly.

Sarah crossed her arms protectively and slowly sat on the edge of her bed, never taking her eyes off his face. He looked just as unsettling in half-shadows, but at least she wouldn't be surprised by his sudden movements.

"Start talking," she ordered.


	3. Chapter 3

Upon her demand, the king shifted again and pursed his lips, eying her with hooded eyes. He moved to open his mouth, then seemed to reconsider, closing it and shifting his weight a third time. Sarah frowned; she didn't recall him ever being this hesitant and uncertain before.

Something was very, _very_ wrong.

She swallowed thickly. "Would it be easier if you…sat down?" Sarah asked warily, motioning to the chair he'd pulled for her.

His eyes glanced sharply at the chair, but he didn't move. He refocused on her just as quickly. "There is little that will make this easier," he started, frowning again. "We have a dilemma."

" _We?"_

He shuffled again, clearly unsettled by her question. "Yes. Your problem is not unique."

"As in, you are _also_ being thrown across Time?" Sarah narrowed her eyes, unconvinced. "You didn't cause this?"

He hesitated. "Yes…and no." He didn't elaborate further.

Sarah's anger resurfaced. "That's _not_ an answer."

" _It was not_ _intentional_ ," he ground out, teeth clenched.

Sarah's nerves had already been shot when she found him in her kitchen, but this recalcitrance on his part was the last straw. She rose with an exasperated groan and marched towards her closet, throwing open the doors with a 'bang' and began to rifle through the shelves inside.

"What are you doing now?"

"Looking for the book," she answered, as if it was obvious. "There must be something I missed."

"The book will not help. As I said, this was not what I intended."

She paused her search, turning quickly to glare at him. "Oh, r _eally?_ " She questioned, throwing her pitch to an obscene height. "And just what did you _intend_?"

"You were not supposed to win."

Sarah huffed, resuming her search. "Bullshit. You're just pissed that you lost and are taking it out on me…aha!" She pulled out a faded leather-bound book.

"You are not _listening_ , Sarah," he stressed, reaching to grab the book from her. "I did not intend for you to return with the boy. I took action to make that certain."

"Well, clearly you didn't throw enough drugged fruit or cleaners at me, as here I am," she splayed her arms wide, almost smacking him with the book.

He grabbed her arm harshly, digging his long fingers into her arm to make her understand. " _I did plenty."_

"Argh, let _go_ ," she pulled angrily and shoved him away, heading towards her desk. "I have to figure this out. I don't have time for this shit." She massaged the spot on her arm he'd grabbed. It tingled as if she'd fallen asleep on it awkwardly.

"That is precisely the problem, Sarah. You did not have _time_. I made certain of it." He paused when she stopped charging to her desk to look back at him. "And now we have," he motioned to the window, grimacing, "a dilemma."

"Well, _fix it_ ," she spat, "since you made it so _certain._ "

" _I have tried_ ," he ground out, clenching his fists by his sides, "but it has not been enough!" He waited for her outburst, but it did not come. He watched instead as the blood drained from her face and her eyes went wide. He sighed. This was why he'd made her sit down. She looked about ready to faint "Sit, Sarah."

Her legs gave out and she fell back against the bed again. "Not enough…?" She whispered, staring past him. "Not enough…" She turned to look at him, almost pleading. "You can't fix it…?"

He hesitated again, crossing his arms against his chest and causing his horned pendant to glint in the moonlight. "Not…presently," he said carefully. He greatly disliked this line of questioning.

That caught her attention, and a bit of color returned to her face. "But you will be able to fix it…soon?"

"Possibly."

"You need something." _That must be it._ He wouldn't be here unless he did. And judging from how he'd reacted thus far, coming here had been a last resort; from the moment she'd questioned him about the shifts, he'd looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable, as if every uttered syllable dragged up the taste of bile.

Moments passed without any acknowledgement of her comment. She tried again, undeterred. "Just tell me what it is – whatever it is - Goblin King. No need to draw this out."

Jareth brought a gloved hand to his lips and tilted his head at her, considering whether her request was sincere. She was difficult to predict, but he was certain she would not be pleased with his answer. He sidestepped. "Tell me," he began, "when you noticed the shifts, what did you try?"

"What does that matter? It didn't work." She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Humor me."

"Winding clocks, turning them off, breaking them," she ticked off her fingers mechanically. "No luck. If anything, that made it worse." She paused to gauge his reaction, but his face was unreadable. "What did _you_ try?" She asked accusingly.

He ignored her question. "When you tried these things, what were you thinking?"

"How pissed off I was that Time kept skipping!" She stared at him as if he'd grown three heads. "Did you think I was happy about it?!"

"Nothing else? No pleas that it cease?" At the shake of her head, he pressed harder. "What about today?"

Sarah sensed he was looking for something specific. _Today? She didn't mess with any clocks today. She filled in her book with the newest jump and wished that…no._ She pinched her forehead thoughtfully. _That couldn't be it, could it?_

Wary, she asked, "and what if I did wish something like that?"

"It might explain part of our dilemma." He brought his hand back up to his mouth, looking at her pensively. "Do you remember exactly what you wished for?" Seeing her nod, he continued. "Then try to un-wish it." He waved his other hand towards the window.

"Err…" She considered his words. _Un-wish? Was he crazy? Un-wish that time would stop shifting so quickly…?_ She cleared her throat. "Alright…I ugh, wish that time _wouldn't_ stop shifting so quickly?" It came out as if she was questioning his sanity.

The rain remained silent.

He frowned. "That's not going to help." And then, quieter, "but that would explain the latest." Without commenting further, he twisted his wrist to produce a crystal and proffered it to Sarah. "Take this," he ordered, sounding closer to the king Sarah remembered.

She harrumphed. "I don't think so. You've tried that one before."

" _Yes_ ," he said irritably, "but this one will hardly show you your dreams. We have work to do."

"With you? Underground? Oh _hell_ no. Get what you need and go fix this yourself."

And then, he grinned - the first Sarah had seen all evening – and a chill ran up her spine.

_NotgoodnotgoodVERYnotgood…._

"Why Sarah, I need _you_."

And he tossed the crystal at her.

* * *

When she opened her eyes, Sarah knew immediately she'd made an egregious mistake with her open-ended demand. _Damn. Should NOT have said that._ _Really_ _Sarah, didn't you learn anything about the power of words the first time?_

She was somewhere in the castle – _his_ castle. She was certain of it. It was quieter than before - no goblins or chickens in sight - but it felt the same. The same sandy stone walls and crumbling archways. The same off-putting smell of must, ale, and grime. But there was also something different; something warmer. Spices? She shook her head and looked for the Goblin King. _How dare he._ Finding him, she demanded, "Take me _bac_ —"

"Come, Sarah," He cut her off, brushing by her and starting down the hallway.

"No! Are you insane? You can't just drag me here! I beat you!"

He stopped and turned towards her, arching one peculiar eyebrow. "Do you want to fix the shifts? Then _come._ " He didn't wait for her to answer in the affirmative and started down the hallway again.

_Presumptuous bastard._ But she followed, jogging to catch up to his long strides. His dark leather boots made an echoing clip-clip as they moved, and Sarah realized she was terribly under dressed in her sweatshirt, sweatpants, and lack of shoes. She grimaced at her polka-dotted socks. "Where are we going?"

"My office. We have work to do."

Sarah noticed that he sounded much more confident now. Less uncertain. _Home turf can do that, I suppose._

At a disadvantage, she begrudgingly followed him in silence for several minutes. Up a flight of stairs and at the end of a third hallway, he opened a large mahogany door and gestured for her to enter. She narrowed her eyes and pushed past him, moving to sit in one of the spindly chairs at the opposite end of the room in front of what must have been his desk. It was barely discernible; strewn with faded mounds of paper and half-open books and scrolls. Sarah spun one of the books around and peered at the pages that had been left open. She scoffed. _Of course it's not in English._

Jareth moved quickly to sit behind his desk, steepling his gloved hands and intently considering the girl in front of him.

Sarah shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It was much brighter in his office than it had been in her room, and she could see a glint in his mismatched eyes. He was much more intimidating in his territory – almost predatory – and that combined with her state of dress made the situation extremely unsettling. He narrowed his eyes at her. She squirmed again and tried to lighten the mood. "Your organizational skills are lacking."

"I've been _preoccupied_ ," he drawled. He didn't move.

_Oh yes, this was how she remembered him._ A shiver ran through her.

She swallowed and shook her head to clear her thoughts. "With how to fix this?" And then, doubtfully, "do you even know _how_ this happened?"

He unsteepled his hands, tilting his face to look down at her. "You have compounded an already difficult situation." He waved a hand dismissively. "I know exactly what happened."

_Doubtful_. "I'm not taking the blame for all this." She crossed her arms accusingly. "You already told me you made something 'certain'. You clearly started whatever mess we're in." She tried to return his unsettling stare.

At her accusation, Jareth frowned. She had not comprehended his earlier admission. Loathe he was to explain it again. " _Time_ , Sarah. Think it over." He refused to spell it out again for her.

"Yes, yes, you made 'certain' I wouldn't have it. Got it. By doing wha—" she stopped herself, realizing something important. "You sped it up." She paused, and then it clicked. "You _shifted time when I was in the Labyrinth."_

"Yes." He shifted in his chair, once again unsettled.

"You _liar_ , you did cause this!" She jumped up from her chair as she shouted at him.

"I did not _lie_. This was not all my doing." He eyed her pointedly. "You wished the problem worse."

She threw up her arms in protest. "Argh. How was I supposed to know that would happen?!" She glared at him. "Plus, had you not started the shifts, I wouldn't even have _had_ to try and stop them!"

"And may I remind you just _who_ wished away her brother and decided to run the Labyrinth to begin with!" Jareth stood, pushing his own chair back hard and causing several papers to fall off the desk at the jolt. "You are just as much at fault, if not more." His voice had turned to ice.

The air sparked with something and Sarah froze, again realizing the extreme disadvantage she held. He was clearly furious, and she knew exactly how angering him had turned out last time. She didn't know what he might – or even _could_ – do, and they didn't need another major problem. She eased back into her chair and eyed him silently, willing him to sit back down so they could figure this out. She schooled her face into what she hoped was a neutral expression.

In response, he pulled his heavy chair right-side up and moved to return the fallen pages to his desk.

"Why am I here?"

He busied himself with the pages, tapping them purposefully on the edge of the desk as if to align them. "You offered to help," he said simply, without looking once at her, "and I accepted." He balanced the pile on an open corner before sliding gracefully back into his seat.

Because he seemed to have calmed, she ignored his blatant mis-characterization. "And exactly _what_ , Goblin King, would you have me do?" She asked pointedly. "Last I checked, I can't control the space-time continuum and that un-wish was just ridiculous."

"That depends," he replied noncommittally, drumming his fingers against the desk as he watched her. "There are several things I'd like to try. Some require you do…" he cocked his head and smirked, showing pointed canines "…very little."

She bristled at his insinuation. _That bastard._ "If you think you can just drag me down here to be your obedient little plaything…" she started warningly. "You can go fuck yourself."

"Really, Sarah," he chided, "there's no need for language." Before she could jump in to argue, he continued. "While tempting, that would hardly solve our predicament." He squinted at some fixed point behind her. "No, for now, we just…wait."

That had not been what she'd expected.

"Wait," she repeated dully. "Wait for what?"

"For your time to catch up. Three hours, was it?" He leaned back in his chair and swung his feet up, crossing them neatly across the edge of the desk. He didn't spare a glance at her or his newly balanced pile of pages when they toppled. Instead, he picked up one of the books and propped it on his lap to read, ignoring her completely.

She waited several moments in vain for him to say something, but he seemed engrossed. _Fine, then. It seems we're done here._ Sarah used his implicit dismissal as an opportunity to further inspect her surroundings. She knew she shouldn't care what his office looked like, but she was curious by nature, perhaps overly so, and reasoned that knowing what she was dealing with was essential.

She'd already noticed the extreme brightness of the room, but she traced the source to a wall of impressive floor-to-ceilings windows to her left. Heavy burgundy drapes were drawn open at either end and tied neatly with thick golden cords. The burgundy accents extended to an intricately woven area rug and a set of leather chairs angled towards the windows, but the neatness, however, ended there.

The disorder on his desk was carried through to two looming bookshelves that framed the desk behind him. Bits of crinkled paper and baubles in varying states of repair were jammed between rows of books that looked likely to topple if breathed upon. Two foggy hourglasses were being used as bookends for a set of battered leather-bound tomes that looked much older than the other works. Sarah spotted something near them that looked vaguely like eye glasses, but instead of one set of lenses, the pair had several colored layers jutting from the frame. A monochrome depiction of a labyrinth hung directly between the shelves. She tilted her head, squinting. It was definitely crooked.

Had Sarah not known better, she'd have thought it to be an office of some eccentric and well-read collector above.

Directly to her right, several marble pieces were scattered across a checkered game board and the dark wooden table it sat on. Sarah wondered absently if he played alone, snickering unconsciously as an image of him trying to explain the strategy game to the goblins came to mind.

A heavy turn of pages interrupted the thought.

_Right. Still ignoring me, then. Does he think I'm just going to sit here and stare at him for three hours?_ She glanced back at the leather chairs by the windows, but decided they looked too heavy to push together. "Is there somewhere I can go lie down? As I'm sure you know, I'm exhausted."

He didn't bother to look up as he twisted his wrist to again form a crystal. Before Sarah had the chance to object, he tossed it towards her head. She instinctively moved to cover her face with her arms, but the impact didn't come, and Sarah opened her eyes to see him staring at something behind her.

"Skagg, the Lady wishes to retire for the evening." He waved his now-empty hand in dismissal. "See to it."

Sarah turned around to find a goblin wearing an eye-patch nodding enthusiastically as he balanced the crystal in his palm.

"C'mon, Lady!" He squeaked, bouncing in excitement as he tugged hurriedly at Sarah's pant leg.

Sarah grinned unconsciously. Despite her history with them, this goblin looked harmless enough. And the scene reminded her fondly of Toby dragging her out for trick-or-treating. _Pirate costume and all._ She allowed the goblin to lead her to the doorway before she glanced back at the King. He had finally put aside his book and was watching her intently.

"Is Time going to shift while I'm here?" She asked hesitantly. He hadn't been clear as to whether the Underground was – or would be - affected. She hoped not; she needed a few good hours of continuous sleep.

"Go sleep, Sarah," he said, rubbing slowly at one temple. "Three hours."


	4. Chapter 4

Sarah might have been impetuous at times, but she wasn't stupid; if the Goblin King was foolish enough to leave her alone with one of his goblins, she was going to use that time to her advantage. She needed more information, and if the goblin knew anything, she was going to coax it out of him. The king might have forbidden them from talking about the situation, but she was confident she could talk her way around whatever order the goblin had comprehended.

She was an actress, after all.

Sarah slowed her gait, dragging her feet with as much scuffling as her socks would allow. Once she felt sure she was out of the Jareth's earshot, she released a melodramatic sigh that would put a valley-girl to shame.

The goblin in front of her slowed and squinted back at her with his one good eye. "You's alright, Lady?" He questioned, furrowing his already-crinkled forehead into a muddle of lines.

_Bingo_. "Oh, it's nothing, really. It's just so boring walking in silence." She waited for his predicted nod – the goblins were, after all, the epitome of chaos - before moving in for the kill. "Why don't we play a game?"

"Ooooo!" His shriek jumped octaves. "What kinda game?"

She thought quickly, remembering her wristwatch. Because of the shifts, it was mostly a sentimental piece; her father had given it to her for her last birthday. But it had an excellent alarm function. "How about the 'Lucky Goblin Game?' I'm sure you've played it loads of times with the others."

His forehead scrunched. "No," he said slowly, considering the name, "they's never asked me to play that one." The confusion passed just as quickly. "How'd'you play?" He burst out, bouncing in excitement again.

_This is too easy. I almost feel bad for the fellow. Almost._

"It's really easy. For every correct answer you give, you get one lucky point. And if you get five, you win the lucky prize! But," she waggled her finger out in front of him, "if you don't tell the truth, I'll know, and you won't win." She raised the watch to her face and set a quick alarm. "This," she warned, as she pushed the button, "is my magic truth-telling machine. It'll scream when you give a wrong answer."

Sarah decided he seemed suitably impressed when his mouth dropped open and he tried to jam his misshapen hands into his ears. She stopped the alarm and dropped her arm. "Alright, then. Ready—"

"PRIZE," he cut her off, eye wide. "What'do'I win?"

She quickly considered her options. _What would a goblin even want?_ She pulled her silver necklace out from under her sweatshirt, holding the swirling Celtic knot pendant out for him to see. She hoped he shared the same affinity for shiny objects as had Hoggle. It did look somewhat like a labyrinth, too. "How about this?"

Skagg pushed his eye-patch aside to get a better look – Sarah noted in amusement that the patch was just for show – but he shook his head. "Nah." And he pointed down at her polka-dotted socks. "Want those!"

Sarah unconsciously clenched her toes and eyed the filthy stone below, trying – and failing - to keep her face completely neutral. Walking barefoot around this castle was near the top of her list of hazards to avoid. "Err, alright." She paused. "But these are _extra_ special socks, so you don't get them until we get to the room where I can lie down." _There must be something I can use as make-shift footwear inside._

He nodded agreeably. "Play!"

Sarah grinned and gestured for him to continue leading her to their destination. If this was going to work, she needed to start off with an answer she already knew so as to gauge how truthful he was going to be.

"What is the Goblin King's name?"

He turned back at her, a look of terror on his face, and clamped his hands over his ears. "Not s'posed to say! No scream!" He shook his head fiercely.

Sarah frowned, and pulled his hands from his ears. _How odd_. "What about the first syll- uh…sound? That wouldn't be saying the name."

"Uhhh…," he thought hard.

Sarah started to raise her wristwatch, but his yell cut her off.

"Ja!"

She nodded, smiling. It was clear he really wanted her socks…or just hated the alarm. _This could definitely work._ "Correct. One lucky point! Now, question two…," she started, pausing dramatically, "have you noticed anything odd recently? Like, seeing the same thing twice?" She hoped the question was simple enough for him to grasp.

He didn't move to cover his ears - which Sarah thought was an excellent sign - but he was slow to answer.

"Uhh…," his voice dropping to a whisper before he continued, "King been odd. Less fun, singing, and dancing. More…red room." He pointed a gnarled finger back to where they had come from. "Same thing many times," he added sullenly.

Her eyebrows perked up. It hadn't been what she'd been looking for, but Sarah agreed that it did sound odd. He hadn't exactly been pleasant when she'd been here last, but he'd seemed…spirited. If the goblins found his recent actions odd, that was something to go on.

It was possible the two events were connected.

"Yes," she put a hand on Skagg's shoulder to pause his stride, and squatted down closer to eye level before continuing, "those actions do seem odd. When did that start?"

He jerked his head side-to-side several times before whispering back nervously. "Was after you win. Much red room after." He shuddered and looked at her grimly, adding, "books no fun."

She let out a chuckle and unfurled from her squatting position. "Not for you, I suppose." She, for the most part, loved reading. She just had been extra cautious in reading _aloud_ recently.

A small cough drew her attention, and she realized Skagg was staring up at her anxiously. "But, yes! That's three answers correct; two to go for the prize." Now she just needed to dig a bit deeper. "Lead on," she waved and grinned, "you are so smart I have to think of trickier questions!" Sarah swore she saw a faint blush appear on his bulbous nose.

As he started back down the hallway, Sarah pulled together what she'd learned. Right after she won, the Goblin King began acting 'oddly' – to the goblins at least – and spent more time in his office. That same office was a mess of books and scrolls, so unless he was naturally untidy, he'd been focused solely on finding something. _But what?_ The shifts had started right after she returned from the Labyrinth, so that connection was obvious. Sarah frowned. _He knows speeding up my time started the shifts but doesn't know how to fix them? That doesn't make any sense._

_Had he not done that before?_

Sarah knew exactly what she wanted to ask next but doubted Skagg would be able to answer. To start, she appeared to be the only one – besides Jareth – to notice the shifts. If they had happened before, it was unlikely anyone but him and the other involved runner would have noticed them. And second, despite his massive ego, she wasn't convinced Jareth would have revealed his time shifting skills to the goblins. It didn't seem to affect them, and they weren't the sharpest of creatures anyway; she doubted they would understand the quirk any better than her three friends had.

_Although, Hoggle had reacted oddly. Perhaps he did know something but was scared to tell me?_

She'd deal with that question later. Hoggle wasn't here at the moment and Skagg was trying his hardest to win her socks.

"Skagg, besides making crystals, have you seen the King do any other magic?" It wasn't _exactly_ what she wanted to know, but she would take what she could get.

"King is magic," he answered happily. "Does lots of things!"

"The truth-telling machine likes specifics," she replied lightly, shaking her wrist.

"Wait! King…makes things go poof!"

Sarah raised an eyebrow at him. "Go 'poof'? Like, he makes them disappear?"

He nodded rapidly. "Makes things disappear. Makes himself disappear." He waved his hands in the air for good measure, yelling, "poof!"

No news there. Sarah was made quite familiar with his penchant for swiftly appearing and disappearing during her run. She supposed, in a way, he had made time disappear, so perhaps that particular skill was his forte.

Still didn't explain why he couldn't fix it.

As Sarah was considering what her final question would be, she realized that Skagg had stopped in front of a large wooden door, intricately carved with an image of a winding maze. A perfectly round depression had been carved in its dead center.

"Here!" He turned to Sarah. "Finish game first!"

Sarah hadn't quite figured out where to go from her last question. _What else could Skagg know? What Jareth had already tried? Unlikely. Why he was such an arrogant bastard? Sadly, also unlikely._

"Skagg," she hesitated, "what has the King said about me? Why am I here?" She was confident it couldn't be good; his justification for needing her here seemed suspicious, at best. _It has to be some sort of revenge._

Before responding, Skagg pushed Jareth's crystal into the cavity in the door and it burst into a puff of glitter.

"Hucghk hucghk," Sarah coughed violently, tears springing to her eyes. "Hccck…what…the hell?"

"Sorry, Lady," he squeaked apologetically, "only way."

Sarah wiped at her eyes and sucked in a few quick breaths. "It's…hucgh…fine. Do you…huc…do you know why I'm here?"

The goblin's face scrunched up again, and he gave her an odd look. "Cuz you's his Lady," he answered simply, and he pushed open the door.

* * *

When she thought about it later, the destination shouldn't have been a surprise. She hadn't seen any other humans or…whatever Jareth was wandering the castle and he didn't seem like the type to keep random spare bedrooms for guests. And this definitely wasn't a Motel-6.

So, of course, she'd been sent to his room.

Skagg's answer was forgotten as soon as she saw the massive four-posted bed. Atop a raised platform and draped in black and silver silks, the bed demanded the attention of the room. An obnoxious number of soft looking pillows and throws had been arranged at the headboard and despite herself, Sarah sighed in appreciation.

She blamed it on exhaustion.

At the foot of the bed, an unknown animal fur striped in shades of gray was tucked diagonally under one of the foremost legs. Given the size of the pelt, Sarah was glad she had not encountered that particular beast on her run. It would have considered Ludo a snack.

Two balcony windows framed the silk masterpiece and Sarah suspected they opened to a view of the Labyrinth. She wasn't in the right mind to check. They too were dressed in black silks and tied neatly with silver ties.

A stone fireplace in the shape of a fanged jaw, a giant oil painting of yet another labyrinth depiction – this time in rich shades of fire, several dark wood nightstands and carved dressers, and a small leather couch in front of a small bookshelf completed the room.

It was overstated and extravagant. _Just like him._

Sarah turned around to protest the sleeping arrangement but found Skagg's pleading hands pressed towards her face.

"Socks!"

"Uhh…is this the only place to lie down?" She wasn't sure what answer she wanted; the bed looked obscenely comfortable.

He nodded, not moving his palms from her face.

_Right. Socks._ Sarah wasn't excited about rifling through Jareth's drawers for suitable footwear, but it seemed the lesser of two evils. She wouldn't need them lying down, but the castle floors needed a seriously good scrubbing. Or two.

"Just let me find something to wear…you wouldn't happen to know where the king keeps his socks, would you?" With that ensemble, he had to be wearing them.

"Dunno 'bout socks, but boots there," he grinned, pointing to a door built into the eastern wall. "Keep 'em nice and shiny!"

Sarah walked to open the closet and was met by stacks of high leather boots in what seemed to be every shade of brown, black, and gray. _Good lord, now_ this _is excessive._ She pulled out one in dark brown, sniffed it warily, and measured it against the bottom of her foot. They'd be big, but at least they appeared clean.

She grabbed its sibling and moved to sit on the small leather couch, gesturing for Skagg to follow. "Voila," she held them out to him loosely, "two polka-dotted socks, as promi—"

But he had snatched them already and in a whir of greenish-grey, he bounded out the door. "Thanks, Lady!"

"Sure," she grumbled to herself, rubbing at her eyes.

Her eyes darted back to the bed. It was cruelly tempting, she decided, to put an exhausted human in the bedroom of the magical, wicked king. Right out of a bad harlequin novel, silk trimmings and all. But she resisted, reasoning that if his royal self decided to barge in unannounced, she'd rather not be sprawled out on his bed like some tasty treat. Although he'd been warned, she wasn't certain he wouldn't take advantage of such a situation.

It was likely just what he'd intended. She scoffed.

The couch was small, but not unpleasantly so, and Sarah sunk down into the leather. She pulled the gray velvet throw off the arm and wrapped it around her body.

She was asleep before Skagg had time to model his new socks.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Admittedly, Jareth knew he should have handled the entire situation better.

The rules, while silent on methods of distraction, were painstakingly clear on the precise length of time allotted to runners: thirteen hours. That thirteen-hour window was not something he had ever thought to test. Not because he didn't think he could do it, mind you - because he'd been confident he could - but because he had never needed such an advantage.

Not until her.

It wasn't _intentional_ , he reasoned. Neither his actions nor the jolting results had been planned. He had been simultaneously provoked by her obstinance and flagrant disregard for his authority and spelled by her passion and naiveté. And ultimately, he'd underestimated her resolve to reach her brother. In the flash of a moment, it had been done, and Jareth hadn't considered the consequences of breaking that rule. When she'd confronted him, it had been the farthest thing from his mind.

And then, she'd left, and he'd thought it immaterial.

It soon became apparent to Jareth that this assumption was mistaken.

Despite his knowledge of the rule, in his arrogance, he had failed to appreciate its import. According to the old works, it was not something he could choose to amend at-will; it was old magic - blood magic - tied to the Labyrinth itself. Such things were not to be tampered with, even by him. Books had been written on a terrible horned beast and precise numbers of children sacrificed within the Labyrinth long before he took the throne. Centuries dulled the Labyrinth's ancient rituals, but not the fabric of its existence.

Of course, he'd never thought he needed to review the entirety of the old words before. He was King; he'd do as he pleased.

But now he knew he'd made a grievous error.

Jareth glanced back at the ornate wall clock across the room and let his face fall forward into his hands, cursing. The crystal through which he'd been scrying the Above shattered into dust.

They had been the obvious means to try, but neither removing her from Above or catching up her hours had solved their dilemma. He shouldn't have been surprised; blood magic was not meant to be easily circumvented. Any solution would be…complex.

This was far from ideal. It was clear she still despised him and convincing her to trust him as they proceeded would be no small task. She was sure to demand further explanation for what he asked of her.

He rubbed at his temples in frustration, cursing again. This was not at all what he'd intended.

But there was nothing to be done about that now.

Pulling a new crystal to his fingers, he let his gaze settle briefly on the sleeping girl inside and then in an instant, he vanished from the office.

* * *

The warmth was smothering. In her half-awake state, Sarah kicked off the velvet covering and rolled to her side, determined to fall back asleep…

…and fell to the floor with a pronounced 'thunk'.

"Ow!" She cried, rubbing at her hip as she pulled herself to a kneeling position. "Fucking tiny couch." The crackle of fire muffled her curse, and her eyes flickered to the now roaring fireplace.

It was _literally_ roaring, with the flames reaching out from a den of jagged stone teeth and two deliberately placed sconces set above its mantle. ' _Into the lion's den',_ she mused. _How fitting_. It was breathtaking, and not only because Sarah had gotten the wind knocked out of her in her fall.

Because of that, it took Sarah several seconds to realize it most definitely had _not_ been lit when she'd fallen asleep. _Which means that…_ Her gaze unconsciously drifted towards the bed and landed on its master.

He was leaning back against the headboard, legs crossed out in front of him elegantly, and was watching her with a frustratingly unreadable expression. He'd changed out of his black winged cloak and into a loose-fitting white poet's shirt and light gray breeches that revealed every twitch of his taught muscles. The deep opening in the shirt allowed her a better look at his peculiar amulet. Its strange horns glinted fiercely in the firelight, and Sarah pulled her eyes back to his face. One arm was propped behind his head and at her stare, he tilted his head and returned a feral grin.

" _Satisfied_?" The question flowed from his lips like honey.

" _Excuse_ me?" Sarah sputtered, knowing she'd been caught staring. But his predatory grace had been impossible to ignore.

"With your rest?" He grinned wider, uncrossing his legs to sit on the edge of the bed. "You've slept all through the night."

"It's been over three hours?" She continued, frowning when he nodded tightly. "Then I assume whatever you were waiting for didn't happen."

"Unfortunately, no. It appears to require a more complicated solution."

"Meaning?"

He stood and moved towards a dark wooden door on the western-most wall. It too had _not_ been there when Sarah had entered; it was too large not to notice. From her angle, Sarah thought she saw a familiar winding spiral on its face. At his beckoning, she pulled on his boots and stumbled over to the door.

"Meaning this might take longer than we'd both like." He looked down at her boots and his lips twitched. "And while you do look lovely in my boots, I expect you'd prefer something closer to your size." He gestured towards the door.

Up close, Sarah was able to confirm that this door's etching was also labyrinthine, but instead of a spherical cavity, a flat expanse of wood rested at the center of the maze. As with his door, there was no handle. Anxious to get out of his boots, Sarah pushed hard against the door frame, to no avail.

He chuckled lightly, tapping the flat surface with a finger. "It won't recognize you until you mark it."

"Mark?" She moved automatically to search her pockets for a pen but stopped abruptly, remembering. "I don't have a crystal," she said, mildly irritated. "Nor can I make one."

"It need not be a crystal. The item is irrelevant so long as it is uniquely yours."

Frowning, Sarah pulled out her Celtic pendant and pressed it to the spot he'd tapped. Instantly, the spot burned like wildfire and she snapped her hand back to see the small knotted sigil embossed in the wood. "Neat trick," she muttered, massaging her hand and pushing the door open with her shoulder.

To her surprise, it was not a closet of smaller shoes, but a second bedroom.

In contrast to the King's, this room was draped in cream and gold and a large mirrored dressing table encompassed the far wall. Several plush chairs had been angled around a coffee table near an empty bookcase. A large painting that looked disturbingly like the park she'd frequented as a child caught her off-guard.

"What the—" She trailed off and turned towards him accusingly, eyes narrowed. "Why is there a painting of _my_ park in your castle?"

"I thought it appropriate," he said mildly. "It is a familiar and pleasant setting for you."

"For me?" She spun back to the room, waving her arms wide. "You did all this while I was _sleeping_? Because that door was _not_ there when I fell asleep."

"I am exceptionally talented," he replied easily, sidestepping.

"Modest, too," she muttered.

He ignored her jab. "There are clothes in the armoire," he said, pointing to a heavy looking dresser, "and the washroom is the door across." He titled his head at her with a smirk on his lips, and pulled at a lock of her matted hair. "You might want to start there."

She swatted his hand away and caught his eye. "Why?"

"Because, precious thing, my goblins look better after a night of revelry," he said dryly.

She swatted at him again, but he was out of reach. " _No_. Why do all this? Why not just take me back home?"

For several seconds, Sarah was met with silence as she watched the smirk drop from his face and his expression turn serious. When he spoke again, all traces of humor had vanished.

"The situation must be resolved here," he spoke plainly. "Until then, there are things even I cannot do."

"Cannot or will not?" She was glad her voice sounded calmer than she felt. He'd spoken as if he was powerless to take her home until the shifts were reversed. An indefinite period of time circled in her head and a cold sweat beaded at the back of her neck.

"I cannot, and will not, risk it," he said, shifting imperceptibly. "I cannot predict what damage taking you away from the source would do now that you've returned, and there are things I am not willing to gamble on." At her cool stare, his tone softened. "We _will_ fix this, Sarah, but until we do, I cannot take you above."

Sarah didn't respond immediately, head still churning over the possibility that she was stuck here for an indeterminable amount of time. He seemed confident that they'd reverse whatever damage they'd done but given his progress – or lack thereof – she wasn't as certain. But if her only chance of returning home rested on them figuring out a solution, she'd do everything in her power to help.

"Fine," she said, crossing her arms and staring up at him resolutely. "What's the plan, then?"

"When you are ready," he jerked his head to the washroom, "come to the hall for breakfast. We can discuss next steps then." He moved to exit through a different door, opening it with the palm of his hand and stepping into the hallway. "You should also mark this one," he paused, smirking, "unless you'd prefer to come through my bedroom at night." His grin widened at her scowl. "In either case, the mark will keep the goblins from entering without your permission."

"What about Goblin Kings?" she asked blandly, already expecting his answer.

His lips twitched, and he eyed her fiercely. "I don't think your mark is strong enough for that, precious thing," he drawled. And with a flick of his wrist, he disappeared from the hall.

_Wonderful. So much for privacy._ She scowled at the door he'd exited, but nonetheless marked it with her knot, and slammed it closed with gusto. She hoped he heard it.

Turning back to the room, Sarah found the dresser to which he'd motioned, and yanked the doors open with similar enthusiasm. An onslaught of rich colors greeted her, and Sarah let go out of the armoire doors in shock. She'd assumed he'd given her _an_ outfit, perhaps two, but not an entire _wardrobe_. And certainly not outfits this nice. She pulled out one of the long satin dresses in an earthly shade of green and held it up to her body. It was hard to be certain while in her oversized sweatshirt, but she thought it to be a close fit.

She frowned. _Suspiciously close, even._ She hardly thought she'd spent enough time with him for him to know her size, especially through her baggy clothes. _He has some explaining to do at breakfast_.

She put the dress back on its hanger. While lovely, the dress and its many sisters were hardly practicable for solving a global crisis, so she searched for something with legs. If she had to spend an indefinite amount of time with Jareth doing god-knows-what, she needed to at least feel comfortable.

Having no luck amongst the hanging garments, she closed the armoire doors and moved on to the several narrow drawers, only to find _another_ row of dresses in the first, albeit of more serviceable material, pairs of matching silken flats in the second, and in the third…

She slammed the bottom drawer. _The nerve._ She would _not_ be wearing anything in that one; she'd wash her own plain underthings by hand if necessary.

Unfortunately, Sarah then realized she was out of drawers and no closer to a pair of pants. _Damn. Would it have been too much trouble to spare a shirt and a pair of breeches? From all the outfits I've seen so far, he had plenty._ She looked down at her sweatshirt and pulled a corner to sniff, grimacing. It _had_ been passable, but sleeping under velvet coverings near a roaring fire had put it well beyond help. She'd need other clothes.

A thought struck Sarah, but she was sure he'd gone crazy to actually consider borrowing clothing from his bedroom. The boots were one thing, but she thought the pants too…personal. Perhaps, she wondered, if she asked for a pair? _Although, they say it's always easier to ask for forgiveness instead of permission._ Even so, she wished she didn't have to go through his drawers to find suitable clothing.

Something stirred in the air and Sarah involuntarily jumped, thinking he'd come back. But when she spun back towards the door, her eyes caught something stacked on the bed that had most certainly not been there before. Furrowing her brow, she picked up the pile to find a pair of black breeches, a dark green linen blouse, and a pair of narrow leather boots. The style was similar to Jareth's, but smaller, and gratefully, the shirt was much more modest in the chest area. A bundle fell out of the breeches as she unfurled them, and Sarah grinned at the plain undergarments.

He was either watching her, or he'd suddenly realized his clothing selection was lacking. She decided it didn't matter: she had pants.

The bundle was gathered up and carted to the door he'd noted was the washroom. Seeing no labyrinthine spiral on its face, and finding the handle, she easily pushed it open.

She decided immediately that 'washroom' was the wrong word.

The space was long like a hallway, but hardly narrow. A sunken tub carved from marble - and larger than her kitchen - sat halfway between the room, accompanied by glass bottles of various shapes and sizes. The wall to her right was made entirely of mirrors, which while a bit voyeuristic, allowed Sarah to get a glance at her shoddy state. She groaned, realizing how ridiculous she must have seemed to him. _Frat boys looked better after finals. Way to go, Sarah. No wonder he'd been so amused._

She wasted no time in stripping out of her sweaty outfit and turning on the faucets. After testing the water, she settled in, and sighed, instantly feeling more human. Baths were a luxury that poor, rushed college students like her rarely had time to enjoy. She uncorked one of the soap bottles, and finding the spicy scent agreeable, lathered and rinsed.

She could have lounged in the bath much longer, but she knew Jareth was expecting her at breakfast, and thought it unwise to test his patience for waiting while naked in a tub. Just as quickly, she'd grabbed a towel from the clawed fixture above the tub and pulled on the fresh clothing. As Sarah predicted, they fit perfectly.

As she toweled her hair, she picked up the wide tooth comb that had been placed on a vanity under the mirrors. After inspecting it for hairs, and thankfully finding none, she ran it through her hair until she had wrangled the knots. _There_ , she thought, looking at the mirror, _now I at least look presentable._

She grabbed her old clothes off the floor and placed them at the foot of her bed before stepping out into the hallway. _Right or left?_ Both directions were nondescript, providing little indication of which led to whatever hall Jareth was dining in. She thought she heard a smattering of laughter coming from her left, and as that was the best marker she'd found, she trudged off in that direction.

The laughter led her, unsurprisingly, to the throne room. Jareth was not seated on the throne, but the dozens of goblins drinking ale, gleefully tossing chickens, and hanging from the ceilings in manners that defied the laws of gravity, made the room anything but empty.

"Excuse me?" She asked calmly, but the cacophony continued. "HEY!" She tried again, cupping her hands around her mouth. The chicken throwing paused, and the goblins slowly turned her way. "Do you know where the hall is? For breakfast?" At their vacant stares, she groaned and rolled her eyes. "Where is the King?"

A dozen fingers pointed behind her, and Sarah sighed, thinking she must have passed right by it when she'd turned into the throne room. But before she could turn, Sarah felt a feather soft brush of hair and whisper of hot breath against her neck.

" _Looking for something_?"

Sarah's stomach flipped as the question thrummed against her ear like the wings of a hummingbird, and her knees faltered. Flushed, she spun around to meet the Cheshire grin of the Goblin King. He looked exceptionally pleased to have captured her unaware.

She jumped back to put some space between them, taking a few measured breaths. "Yes," she gulped out, unable to think of another retort in that moment. Her reaction had been uncontrollable, she reasoned, as she was confident his voice would shatter diamonds. She was only human.

But she could at least control her glare. She forced a hardness into her eyes.

Jareth's grin faded as his brow furrowed. Slowly, he traced Sarah from her flowing shirt down to her black leather boots and then back up again to her icy stare. He lips twitched unexpectedly.

"Something funny?" She asked tightly, crossing her arms. It clearly wasn't the outfit he'd been hoping for, but she thought she looked presentable.

"Exceedingly," he flashed a grin. "But unsurprising. You always were stubborn."

"Heroines can't save the world in ballgowns, Jareth," she said, rolling her eyes at him. "I don't know what you were thinking."

"I could ask you the same," he countered, his thin lips twitching again, "but given the urgency of the matter, I'll preserve your goodwill." He turned on his heels, shaking his head as he started out of the throne room.

Sarah followed, glaring daggers at the back of his head until they reached the hall.

The hall was sparsely decorated, filled only by the sunlight streaming through a high window and a long wooden table with two place-settings at its far end. Several plates of various breads and fruits and a pitcher of some sort of juice had been placed near the settings. Sarah eyed the fruit warily as she sat, not moving to fill her plate.

The Goblin King sat at the table's head and grabbed a sweet roll from the platter, biting into it neatly. He passed the fruit plate to Sarah when she didn't follow his lead.

"Eat, Sarah. I would hardly go through the trouble of preparing you a room just to poison you at breakfast."

She _was_ hungry, she conceded. Even so, Sarah pushed the peaches aside, and bit into an apple with vigor, still eying him suspiciously. He had several questions about her accommodations to answer, but battles were easier to fight on a full stomach.

Jareth waited until she'd swallowed before speaking. "As you may have gathered, this situation is…unique. I thought to reverse it by replacing your stolen time, but as that has failed, we need to consider other options." He took a substantial bite of his sweet roll, eying her thoughtfully as he chewed.

Sarah didn't wait for him to finish. "What options would those be?"

"That," he swallowed, "is what we are here to discuss. I am now convinced that you are intricately tied to solving our dilemma but uncertain as to what that entails." He took a sip of juice before continuing, looking at her icy stare in amusement. "What would _you_ try?"

That caught her off-guard and her glare morphed into confusion. "Me? I have no idea how to fix this. You're the one with the magic."

"Really, Sarah," his lips twitched again, and he canted his head at her. "And here I thought you were clever."

Sarah scowled at him but took a second bite of her apple before she responded with something pithy like 'I was clever enough to beat you.' It might have wiped the annoying smirk form his face, but it was sure to spiral into another argument.

He paused as she chewed, pursing his lips as he considered her. There was a heavy look in his eyes, as if a thought was weighing on his conscience. Finally, he sighed, and his tone softened. "Did you not wonder why I asked you to make that un-wish?"

"Of course, I did. I told you that was ridiculous."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Hardly. I had suspicions last night, but you've just proven them correct." At her blank stare, he continued. "Tell me Sarah, where did you find that outfit?"

"It was on the bed. You sent it," she said, picking up her own glass of juice.

"I did no such thing," he said casually. "That was all you."

" _Pardon_?" She caught some of the spray in her hand, staring at him wide-eyed.

"You've been gifted with some amount of magic, Sarah. I don't know how much." He wiped off the crumbs that had fallen on his shirt as he waited for her to absorb the statement. "And before you start berating me, _no_ , it was not my doing. From the best I can tell, it is a consequence of your _victory_ ," he said sharply, the word twisting in his mouth. "It is old magic; the books were not entirely clear."

Sarah put down her apple on her plate to keep herself from hurling it at him. "Let me get this straight," she started, releasing a huff of air. "First, you steal my brother and tell me I can only get him back by solving the Labyrinth in thirteen hours. Second, you then shift my time so I don't even _have_ thirteen hours and throw the above world into a jumbled loop. And third, finding Toby came with an award of _magic_?" She finished with sharp incredulity, grateful Jareth at least had the decency to wait her out. "Have I gotten everything?"

"Mostly," he hesitated, "but I now believe the solution to the shifts is tied to your gifting of magic. Both matters are governed by old magic, and it seems likely one could affect the other. It's what I would try next, in any case."

A quiet intensity echoed across the hall as he finished.

Sarah's ire was forced back by the resignation ironed across his face and the realization he'd spoken without insinuation or ambiguous excuse. It was a palpable change, as if he'd unhinged his impenetrable cage to let her in.

"But you don't know," she said calmly.

He shook his head. "This situation is unique, Sarah. I can only presume like magic is necessary to address it."

"I don't know how to fix it," she said, releasing a heavy breath and looking at her hands numbly.

"Not now, perhaps, but we can start small. Learn what types of things you can and cannot wish for. We'll work up from there."

"I'm guessing I don't have much of a choice," she said, heaving another sigh.

He shook his head again, but the corner of his lips lifted. "Afraid of a challenge?"

Hazel eyes flashed and Sarah downed her juice in one gulp. "Never. Where do we start?"


	6. Chapter 6

They started in his office.

Sarah sat down in her spindly chair and waited for instruction. Instead of sitting, Jareth moved to a bookcase and pulled the set of ancient tomes out from the hourglass bookends. The books were unceremoniously added to the chaos on the desk, landing with a heavy thud.

"You should start with these," Jareth said, nodding towards the pile.

"You're giving me _reading_? I thought you were going to help me with wishes?" Sarah eyed the books distastefully, estimating thousands of pages of homework.

"The two are one and the same. These," he said, picking up one of the old books, "are the old texts. I've scoured them already and while they are vague on the consequences of a victory such as yours, I nonetheless think them helpful for you. Perhaps your gifting of magic will trigger a better understanding of its meaning. But at the very least, they will explain the root of the Labyrinth's power."

Sarah reached for the book outstretched in Jareth's hand, and opened it to its inside cover. Like the earlier work, the language was undecipherable.

"Small problem, Jareth. I can't read this."

"Obviously," he drawled. "But aren't we here to test the power of your wishes?" He tipped his head at the book in her hand. "Try wishing to understand them."

Nodding, she looked at the symbols on the page and after taking a deep breath to focus, wished that she could read them.

The symbols remained foreign.

Frowning, she closed her eyes and tried a different phrase. _I wish the book was in English._

But she opened her eyes to the same obscure symbols.

"It's not working."

Jareth's expression turned thoughtful, and he brought a gloved hand to his lips. "How odd. Translation is simpler than conjuration."

"Clearly _not_."

He didn't argue back, and instead, leaned back in his chair, still observing the girl in front of him. Sarah watched his eyes for a sign, for some signal of understanding, but his expression remained pensive, as if long considering what chess piece to move next.

"The old magic must operate under different principles," he said finally, voice thoughtful. "The bounds of which I am unfamiliar." He motioned for Sarah to hand him back the book. "Until we figure them out, there is a way for you to read these, but," he hesitated, and an odd look graced his features, "your right words are necessary."

"My right words?"

' _Say your right words', the goblins said._

"Yes, or the wrong words, in this case. It has been some time, but I trust you remember."

_For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great._

"You have no…," she trailed off, suddenly understanding. "You want me to take it back."

"It would make teaching you much easier." At her suspicious look, he sighed. "I am only trying to help, Sarah. Your status as _victor_ would remain unchanged. But there are…," he paused, finding his right word, " _limits_ to what I can do until you let me."

"You brought me here without my permission," she pointed out.

"Limits aren't the same as impossibilities," he countered, quirking a corner of his mouth. "Choose your words wisely."

She didn't respond, and Jareth sighed again. "If it is any assurance, I promise you that your brother will not be harmed. As I said, your status would remain unchanged."

"That's not a promise that _I_ won't be harmed," she replied, still uneasy. "If those words have been protecting me, how can I trust you won't take advantage once they're gone?"

He paused for a moment, then a spark of something fierce flashed in his eyes. "I will do everything in my power to keep you from harm, Sarah," he said with quiet intensity, taking her hands in his. "As Jareth the Goblin King, High Prince of the Underground, and Keeper of the Labyrinth, I swear it."

A sudden warmth spread through Sarah's hands, and she wrenched them back instinctively. A small sigil reminiscent of Jareth's horned amulet glowed upon her right hand, but as she watched, it faded into her skin. "What was that?"

"An attempt to earn your trust," he said, sitting back in his chair. "Any power you give me will be limited by that Oath."

Sarah's forehead creased as she continued to massage her hand. The promise was more than she'd expected and appeared sincere. The sigil on her hand helped confirm it. But he'd maneuvered around words before, bending them until her world snapped. He'd played to win, at any cost. And still, he'd lost, and reminders of her victory still twisted darkly on his tongue.

But the game had changed; those words alone would not solve the shifts or take her home.

And without knowing whether she'd saved herself or damned her soul to hell, Sarah jumped off the cliff.

"You have power over me."

* * *

The enchantment itself was useful, Sarah decided.

After she'd spoken her words, Jareth had pulled a crystal from the air and drenched her in the spell. The changes weren't instantaneous. For several seconds, Sarah's eyes had watered as the book's letters weaved into place. When they'd finally settled, Sarah had scooped up the now legible tomes and carted them to the chairs by the windows.

There were no publication dates; only worn bindings and yellowed pages spoke of age. Sarah carefully turned to the beginning of the book he'd handed her first, titled simply 'The Underground,' and began to read.

Despite the book now being in English, Sarah quickly found herself struggling to follow along.

The authors spoke in riddles and rhymes and of monsters and magic. There was no scientific explanation for the beginning; it just _began_. As the centuries progressed, magic swallowed the nothingness at its ends and the realm grew, yet the 'why's' and 'how's' had apparently been too inconsequential to write down. Several pages mentioned wishes and the 'Lands Above' but offered no answers on wrangling old magic.

Hours passed. Sometime later, Jareth summoned Skagg to bring them brown bread and a savory stew, and the pair continued their research in silence. Eventually, the King moved from his desk to gaze out the windows, arms crossed behind him.

Sarah eyed him out of the corner of his eye, careful to keep her book propped up high. His expression was unreadable.

"Anything useful?" he spoke suddenly, not turning his head.

She hesitated. "I'm not sure. I've seen a few references to 'old magic', but they don't reference _breaking_ it, just its making." She frowned, turning another page. "It's a bit hard to follow."

He nodded in agreement. "Yes," he said wryly, "I think they were intended to be obscure. An apparent token of _importance_."

Sarah snorted at the sound of his distaste but wiped the smirk off her face when his eyes narrowed at her. He turned back to the windows just as quickly.

"It's late," he said, nodding into the distance. "You can finish that one tomorrow and then start on the text on the Labyrinth."

She waved him off. "I'm fine. I don't have much more in this one; I'd rather just finish it tonight." She held up the remaining section of the book in support. "The quicker I figure this out, the quicker I can go home."

"Very well." And with nothing more than a tilt of his head and the snap of a wrist, he vanished.

Sarah released the tension she'd kept coiled while he'd been in the room, collapsing ungracefully into her leather chair. The book _was_ complicated, she reasoned, but his presence was oddly oppressive, as if a chasm was swallowing oxygen from the room as minutes ticked by.

The silence, if anything, had made it worse.

She'd expected him to pepper her with questions or at least engage in his obligatory playful banter. But he'd barely spoken all day. She'd snuck more glances that she'd like to admit, half-hoping she'd find him watching her with his lazy grin, but he'd never met her eyes. His focus on his texts appeared unyielding.

It was disconcerting, she decided. She'd always seen him as a creature of refined arrogance and less-than-subtle insinuation. He'd certainly reveled in that image earlier when he'd caught her off-guard. But the scholarly researcher persona was exceedingly bizarre. It was too normal.

It wasn't _him._

On top of that, Sarah, while studious, was _not_ studying to be a mime. If she had to sit in his office in silence for days-on-end, she'd go crazy. She needed more stimulation. And if he refused to strike up a conversation, she'd do it herself. The worst he could do was not respond; she could shrug off his innuendo.

At least, she _told_ herself she could.

But even she wasn't stubborn enough to deny how her body had hummed with anticipation or desire or _something_ wild and unknown when he'd whispered into her ear. How her breath had hitched as his words rippled across the crane of her neck.

She'd been tempted by his flirtations years before, but in her youth, they were nothing more. In his element, she knew now he was dangerously beautiful, a bird of prey with intentions she didn't understand. He claimed she merely was the key to solving the shifts, but Sarah sensed there was something more.

If only her world was affected, what was in it for him? Why promise to protect her? Sarah shook her head to banish those thoughts.

Sunset began to fade and still, Sarah read, squinting in the darkness. With him gone, she was able to keep her attention focused on the riddles in front of her. From what she could piece together, the Underground had been borne from the old magic, calling it from the 'Lands Above' – a place she assumed was her own world. Because of it, the two planes were irrevocably knotted together, as if bound by Fate's thread.

But if the old magic that held them together could be tamed, the book left no hints as to how.

Sarah closed the text with a creak, sighing softly. Night had almost entirely swallowed the room, and the flicker of starlight out the windows provided more embellishment than substance. She'd about finished the first book, but without more light, the end would have to wait. Standing, she placed the book down on the chair and carefully made her way towards the door.

The sconces that lined the hallway outside were dark, and Sarah swore at herself for not thinking to ask Jareth to light them. As with his boots, he likely found the thought of her stumbling around amusing and hadn't bothered to make things easier. She was far from certain she could find her way back to her room even _with_ light, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of calling for help. She'd stumble if she had to.

_Unless…I could create some light._

Fire was out of the question. While the thought of accidentally setting his castle ablaze quirked her lips, she decided playing with fire – both figuratively and literally - was not a wise move when getting home was at his mercy. She needed something simple.

_How hard could a flashlight possibly be?_

It was doable, she thought, considering she'd summoned a whole outfit from nowhere. And she needed to find a way back to her room; she did _not_ want to spend the evening aimlessly wandering the hallways.

She rubbed her hands together to shake off her nerves. _Right. Okay._ She took a deep breath. _I wish I had a flashlight._

She fought the urge to whoop when a heavy weight appeared in her hand. _Thank god._

She had never excelled at languages, and her only thought as she flipped the flashlight on was that her lackluster language skills had been the reason her translation wishes had failed. It the likely culprit, she decided, as Jareth had seemed particularly perplexed. She expected he'd at least be relieved by her realization. She was damn pleased with herself.

Her feet found their way back to her hallway in record time and she paused as she passed his door. It was late, but she wondered if he was still awake. He had seemed more resigned than tired when he'd left. If he was awake, she knew he'd want to know about her successful wish.

Mind made up, she moved her hand to the cavity to gently knock on its surface but the door creaked open with the first press of her knuckles. She had thought she'd been quiet, but obviously not if he'd opened his door on her first knock.

She pushed the door open another foot. "Jareth, I've figured out…" But the thought trailed off when she walked into what appeared to be an empty room. The fireplace was simmering lightly, but the couch was bare and the covers of the bed looked untouched.

_That's odd. Where did he go?_

She turned to leave, figuring he must have left his door ajar when he'd left his room. He was probably in his throne room, brooding over her earlier ineptitude. It had been a pretty pathetic performance. She'd enjoy the surprise on his face tomorrow morning. Maybe she'd even try and conjure something bigger just to show off. She grinned. _Maybe I'll throw some crystals at him._

Sarah pushed open her own door easily, letting out a yawn as she stepped onto the cream-colored rug. The boots were quickly shucked against the wall as she walked towards the bed, the imprint of a plain tee-shirt and cotton shorts fresh on her mind. As with her prior wish, the items met her on the bed.

Clearly, she decided, her issue was just translation.

She changed and went into the washroom to wash her face, feeling more like herself despite the weirdness of the wish magic. Just as quickly, she settled into bed and fell asleep to thoughts of conjured fruit and fire.

* * *

Jareth, as Sarah predicted, had retreated to his throne room.

An unfamiliar observer of the monarch might have taken in his hunched form and vacant stare as one of detachment, but the King's brooding silence was in preparation for an unwelcome visitor. Expected, given the latest, but unwelcome nonetheless. Jareth lifted his head as the figure walked into the room.

"I expect an exceedingly good reason why I had to meet you here, Jareth. This is not the place for a private discussion."

"My office is occupied."

"Occupied?" The man crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Have you finally taught the goblins to read?"

"The girl is here."

The visitor was silent for a moment. "The High King should be made aware, brother," he responded quietly.

"And I'm certain you'll run simpering back to him with the news, _half-_ brother," Jareth sneered back.

The man sighed heavily, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. "I am only doing my job, Jareth. If you had done yours, we wouldn't be in this position."

" _You_ are hardly in any position. Father has made it abundantly clear that this is my problem alone."

"You know you put him in an impossible situation. The Council wanted you exiled. He finally convinced them that only you could resolve it." He paused for another long moment. "You have determined how to resolve it, I expect? Given the return of the girl?"

" _I am working on it_ ," Jareth ground out, clenching his fists on the edges of the throne.

"You better work fast, or father won't be able to stop the Council from doing something drastic. Especially now that the girl is here. You know what some suggested."

Without any warning, Arlyck found himself slammed up into the wall behind him, a gloved hand around his throat, and wild eyes burning into his own.

"They would not _dare_ ," Jareth's anger battered the walls of the throne room, sending debris falling. "You tell those pompous bastards that if they even _think_ about it, they'll be begging for death just to escape what I'll do to them," he spat, dropping Arlyck to the floor.

"You know I can't tell them that," Arlyck sighed, rubbing his neck gingerly and pushing his short copper hair out of his eyes. "But you've made your point. I'll make it clear you are handling it." He inclined his head and turned to leave, but then stopped, turning back to Jareth with a somber expression. "I am sorry I can't do more, Jareth, but just traveling here near exhausted my stores. It's a miracle the Council still tolerates me, despite me being the High King's bastard."

At that, Jareth's fury abated, and he moved to fall back on his throne. "They are the bastards, Arlyck. If the Council took two seconds to pull their heads out of their asses, they'd realize their insistence on hereditary purity has compounded this situation ten-fold. I doubt they'd even have cared about the Above if they didn't now need the wished away." He smirked, adding, "but that's what millennia of inbreeding gets you."

Arlyck quirked a corner of his mouth. "You excepted, of course."

"Naturally."

Arlyck inclined his head again. "I'll leave you to it, then. It will come as no surprise that the Council is asking for regular updates. I don't suppose you'd be willing to report to them directly?"

Jareth snorted ungracefully in response.

"I thought not. I'll be seeing you soon, then. Good luck," he said, nodding. And he turned and walked out through the door he'd come in. Several minutes later, Jareth felt the air turn as his half-brother shifted back to the Council. Only then did he drop his face into his lap and allow himself to curse.

No, this was definitely _not_ what he'd intended.


	7. Chapter 7

The sky was a deep orange when Sarah awoke and begrudgingly dragged herself out of bed, knowing she had work to do. It was harder than expected; it had been the best sleep she'd had in years.

As she shuffled out of bed, Sarah spied a platter sitting on the coffee table near her bookshelf. A glass of what looked to be the same juice as yesterday and a bowl of some sort of porridge had been left for her. The bowl had either been recently placed or had been spelled to keep warm; wafts of steam brought an enticing smell of cinnamon and clove to her head. A note had been curled in the corner, and Sarah sat down at the table and unfolded it to read.

_Sarah,_

_I trust you slept well. Eat, and meet me in my office as soon as you've finished._

_\- J_

Short and to the point. Sarah swallowed several bites of porridge and eyed yesterday's outfit on the floor, wondering whether her conjuration was limited to generalizations. She hadn't attempted to bring anything specifically _hers_ from Above. But she decided it was worth a try. If successful, that would be something else to gloat to Jareth about.

She pictured her favorite pair of dark jeans and a flattering red blouse that her stepmother had given her for Christmas the prior year. Despite her thorny temperament, Karen – Sarah readily admitted – had excellent taste.

The question was answered when she felt the stirring of air and saw the familiar items laid on the bed. The wishing business, she decided, was convenient. And translation aside, seemed surprisingly easy for someone who had just discovered the gift existed. She hadn't picked up _any_ skill Above this quickly. She swallowed another bite of porridge.

_Perhaps this won't take that long, after all._

A wild thought struck Sarah. Her task was to test the limits of her wishes, but that didn't mean Jareth had to oversee every attempt. Conjuration seemed simple, but what about the movement of those same objects? With no one around, there was no one to see her fail if it didn't work out.

Sarah finished the last bite of porridge and stood. She didn't know if closing her eyes really helped, but it felt like an appropriate thing to do. Her eyes had watered painfully when Jareth's magic had changed the letters on the book; it was likely her change would do the same. She focused on the items, imagined the feeling of the silk blouse against her skin, and wished them to her.

Unlike before, the change was instantaneous, and Sarah opened her eyes to find herself freshly dressed. Unable to contain her excitement, Sarah did whoop this time, and almost sprinted out of the room the find Jareth. It was only the look of her bed head in the dresser mirror that slowed her down, but she quickly tamed the issue, stepped into her boots, and set out towards his office.

After several trips, she now felt confident she had learned the path between her room and his office. Her sense of direction had never been great, but repetition helped.

Jareth was in his customary position hunched over his desk when she walked in, and he glanced up when she closed the door.

"You've been practicing," he stated approvingly, looking up and down at her outfit again. "Those are not of this world."

Sarah returned a grin. "That's not all. I tried to show you last night, but you weren't in your room. I've figured out my prob–" But she stopped abruptly at the startled look on his face. "What is it?" She asked, looking behind to see if someone had interrupted them, but found no one.

Jareth tried to force a calmness on him face, but his worry that she'd heard his conversation with Arlyck remained. There were things she did not need to know. He treaded carefully. "How do you know I wasn't in my room?"

"You left your door open. I didn't see you in there when I checked."

Jareth allowed himself to breathe when she didn't mention his half-brother, but then froze again. "I do not leave my door open. My goblins would destroy the room in minutes if I did."

Sarah crossed her arms defensively. "Well, you must have forgotten last night. It swung right open when I knocked."

"That shouldn't be possible," he spoke quietly, as if only to himself. "Did you wish it open?" He addressed the question pointedly at Sarah.

"No," she said, frowning. "I told you, it just opened when I knocked." She waited for him to respond, but the pensive concern had returned to his face. "What's the problem?"

Jareth canted his head at her, but still didn't respond. The spell on his door should have prevented anyone but him or those with his crystal from entering. It was a simple enchantment that never failed. The door required his magic to open and he knew of no way around that.

It was more likely that Sarah dreamed the scene. There was only one way to find out.

Jareth stood from his chair and walked swiftly over to Sarah. Without warning, he grabbed her arm and Sarah clenched her eyes shut when she felt the sinking feeling of falling down a hole.

"Show me."

Sarah opened her eyes to see that he had transported them both to the door outside his room. The door, as it had the night before, looked tightly shut. She gave him an exasperated look, but then sighed, and knocked sharply on the spherical cavity.

The door swung open with a similar creak.

"See? I wasn't making it up. Can we go back to practice no-" But he'd cut her off again, clenching her upper arm with his hand and sending her back down the sinking hole.

Sarah stumbled and grabbed the back of her spindly chair when he let her go. "Jesus, Jareth. A little warning would be nice."

He ignored her, moving again to the giant bookshelf to pull yet another book down. He yanked open the text, and turned several pages before he ran a gloved finger down the last. Just as quickly, he shoved the open page at Sarah.

"Read this."

Sarah grabbed the book from his outstretched hand and looked to the paragraph he'd been pointing at.

_Marking_

_Once marked, a door can only be opened by the magic of its marker or the master of the domicile. The enchantment is simple to create, requiring only the marker to place a unique symbol against the prepared door._

_The spell to prepare the door for marking requires…_

Sarah looked up, not needing to know how to prepare the door itself. She now understood why he'd seemed concerned. "I didn't mark that door. And I'm not the master of this castle _._ " She paused to watch his face, but it didn't move. "…Right?"

He frowned then, but still didn't offer any answers. Sarah tried again. "Could it be the old magic?" It had caused his confusion before; there was no reason this situation would be different. He had made it clear he was unfamiliar with its bounds.

He leaned back in his seat, his eyes still trained on Sarah. "The enchantment has nothing to do with your run," he said finally, skepticism plain. "Marking is not old magic."

Sarah didn't have an answer for that, but tried to ease his concern. "Look, even if the old magic is messing with your control of the castle," she stopped, and forced a laugh into her voice, "I obviously have no interest in seizing your throne. Figuring out how to restart Time is all I care about."

At that, a layer of fog lifted from Jareth's eyes as he recalled the conversation with his half-brother. Resolving the shifts, and resolving them _quickly_ , had to be their primary concern. If the Council was adamant on sniffing around on his progress, however, Sarah's new talents had to be kept hidden.

Although he thought it unlikely the Council members would physically present themselves, Arlyck made it clear he'd be back soon. He'd be compelled to let them know of anything suspicious. And he didn't put it past the Council to plant spies elsewhere. He would have to be careful and she would have to be told something. She couldn't be seen opening his marked door or conjuring openly in his hallways.

"I want you to pay close attention to what I am about to say, Sarah," he started, voice low and insistent. "There is new urgency on solving matters Above. There are others in the Underground demanding prompt resolution and the longer we take, the more likely they'll try something drastic."

"Drastic? They know how to fix it?" She leaned forward expectantly in her chair, but her face fell at the dark look in his eyes.

"They _speculate_ , but it is not an option," he growled. "We will find another way."

He was grateful she didn't ask for clarification. At her tight nod, he continued. "I know you have been practicing, but I must ask that you only do so in this office or in your room. You will be shielded in those spaces, but it would be unwise to practice elsewhere."

That caught her attention. He'd certainly done magic in the hallways, and last night, so had she. She didn't understand the issue.

"I don't understand. You said this whole issue is tied to me figuring out the old magic. Why the limits?"

He hesitated, trying to decide how much to tell her. He settled on the basics. "There are some in the Underground who would not react well to a human being gifted with old magic. It is best not to risk being seen."

Sarah's brow furrowed. "They don't know? Don't they have the same old books? The ones that talk about the consequences of my victory?"

She was getting too curious now. He decided it was best to end this conversation quickly, so they could move on to resolving the shifts.

"Sarah, to put it bluntly, you would not be here if others in the Underground knew of your old magic." He paused to let the thought sink in. "Fortunately, for the moment, the matter has been tasked solely to me."

Sarah was deathly still, and Jareth took her silence as a chance to make one final request.

"I would also ask that you do not open my hall door. If you need something, come through the door in your room."

"In case that's the old magic?" She whispered.

He paused again, regarding her coolly. "Can you think of another reason why it would dangerous for others to know you can bypass secure enchantments? Enchantments protecting a _King_?"

Sarah's forehead creased again. "You don't think…"

"The Underground is full of those clamoring for more power, Sarah. Some would not hesitate to take it if they had a key."

It was plain from the look on Sarah's face that she fully understood the problem. She nodded tightly, visibly shaken. "Got it. No magic outside those rooms and I won't touch that door."

Jareth grimaced at her expression. Given the news from his half-brother, she needed to know of the risks, but teaching her would be difficult if she let her paranoia take over.

"Don't lose focus, Sarah. It was already unlikely that an outsider would see your magic. I am merely being cautious." He grinned slightly, attempting to lessen her tension. "It's a trait I've recently acquired."

She snorted at that, and placed the book down on his desk. After her reckless wish four years ago, Sarah had also taken it upon herself to be more cautious. It was only after he'd told her of her old magic that some of that caution went out the window. She blamed it on stress. No one person should be tasked with saving the world.

"I shouldn't be surprised. Whenever I've said something here would be easy, it's come back to bite me. Nothing is a piece of cake." She shook her head wearily, then offered him a wry smile. "At least I've figured out my issue with translation."

"Have you," he stated, unconvinced.

"Yep," she nodded, rubbing her hands together eagerly. "I'm terrible with languages. I can conjure and summon just fine." To prove her point, Sarah held out her hand and thought of the flashlight she'd called last night, wishing it back. Seconds passed. And _wished. it. back._ Sarah groaned when her hand remained empty.

"I don't get it," she said quietly. "It worked last night."

"What were you wishing for?"

"A flashlight. I used it to find my way back last night." She fixed him a look. "Since you _conveniently_ forgot to light the hallways."

"An oversight," he offered, lips twitching. "Besides the clothes," he started, slowly looking her up and down, "have you wished for anything else?"

"Just to change clothes this morning. That, the outfit, and the flashlight were all I tried."

"Care to try changing clothes again?" He said, unable to hide his grin. "For research purposes, of course."

"Nice try," she replied dryly. The last thing she needed was to vanish all her clothing in a wish gone wrong. She'd never hear the end of it. "Shouldn't we start trying wishes to end the shifts?"

"By all means, go ahead," he said, waving her on. He didn't sound particularly optimistic.

Sarah sent him a scowl as she stood, and closed her eyes in concentration. Time needed to be restarted. She needed to go _home._

_I wish Time would restart._

She opened her eyes to see him watching her expressionlessly, his head propped up by the elbow on the desk. He looked unimpressed with her efforts. She asked the question anyway. "Did it work?"

He formed a crystal and tossed it at her without looking inside. Sarah caught it neatly and was greeted with images of a frozen rainstorm, wind-bent trees, and neighbors still as statutes. She slammed the crystal down on the desk. "Damn." And then, bitterly, "you don't seem surprised."

He shook his head. "Not after your flashlight attempt. Your gift appears sporadic. Perhaps finishing the old texts will assist in figuring out why."

"They better," she mumbled, still bitter about her failures. She had really wanted to show off to Jareth. To see the look on his face when…she stopped herself mid-thought, scowling. To get home. She wanted to get _home_. That's all that mattered.

Sarah settled back in her chair and picked up yesterday's text. From the small section remaining, she expected finishing it wouldn't take long.

The room soon settled into silence as Jareth hovered over the documents on his desk. Sarah, dutifully, finished off her book – the remainder had not mentioned her magic – and closed it with a snap. Still, he said nothing. She wasn't having it.

"Are you just going to sit there all day?"

He looked up blankly. "Beg pardon?"

"I can't sit here all day in silence. How can you stand it?"

"Necessity." His blank stare shifted into something strange, but he didn't comment further. The look was unplaceable.

"Well, conversation is a necessity for me." She picked up her next book – 'The Labyrinth,' but much longer than her small red leather-bound version – and propped it open to read. "College students are masters at multi-tasking." She waved him on, "tell me something."

He arched an eyebrow. "Tell you what?"

She groaned, rolling her eyes at him. "It doesn't matter. Your thoughts on the meaning of life. Why bad things happen to good people. If blondes really do have more fun." The last one just slipped out, and Sarah snapped her mouth shut. But, as she watched the grin spread across his face, she knew the damage had been done

"Curious, are you? Would you care to find out?" His questions were almost pleading, begging for her to follow him down into the abyss. His eyes had turned dark and inhuman.

_Breathe, Sarah. Don't let him get to you._ She steeled herself. "No, I'm just trying to make conversation. Those questions were rhetorical. There aren't right answers."

"I assure you, that one can be answered," he said lowly, still watching her with the dark look in his eyes.

"You're impossible," she huffed, dragging her attention back to the book. She didn't trust herself to keep staring at him with that feral look in his eyes. If he only wanted to be obscene, she'd read her damn book in silence.

"Rhetorical or not, bad things do not just happen to good people," he said minutes later, as if it was fact.

She looked up at him, forehead pinched. She hadn't expected him to engage. "Why do you say that?"

"Bad things happen because your people cause them to happen. Actions have consequences. Goodness has nothing to do with it."

She frowned at him. "That's pretty extreme. I know there are some people who just don't care, but I think most people are trying to do good."

He didn't respond immediately, instead quirking the corner of his lips that Sarah was now so familiar with. "I have interacted with your people for hundreds of years. You are either an optimist, or terribly naïve."

She laughed at that. "Maybe. Or maybe you just haven't met the right people. Whiny teenagers who accidentally wish away baby brothers haven't given you the best impression," she smiled wryly.

He sobered then, and the hardness returned to his face. "My impression might be better if most had been accidents. You at least fought for the boy."

Sarah stilled, considering what he said. If people were purposefully abandoning their kids, no wonder he was so jaded. She didn't want to push him, but she couldn't help herself. "People wanted to get rid of their kids," she whispered, not exactly asking, but confirming.

"I suspect your opinion of your world would change if you knew how many mothers eagerly offer me their children in exchange for their selfish dreams. Most without hesitation. The fey can be cruel, Sarah, but we do not abandon our children. The wished away children are at least safe here."

"Children? They aren't turned into goblins?"

"Of course not," he scoffed. "They procreate like rabbits on their own. No, children have become a rarity for the fey. My kind depend on the wished away."

"But they're human. You just said you'd lived for centuries." It was hard to wrap her head around his age, but even stranger to imagine scores of children being shuffled into fey households, all to grow old and die before their adoptive parents. "That must be terrible for the parents," she added softly.

Jareth pursed his lips, weighing the costs of correcting her misconception. Their only goal had to be resolving the shifts. He wasn't sure how she'd react to what happened to those who remained Underground. It was likely to do more harm than good he decided, particularly given the weight of his earlier revelations. She had enough to focus on already. And if they were able to reverse the shifts quickly, she wouldn't need to know. If this exercise took too long, however, it was bound to come up.

He'd just have to deal with it then.

He hummed noncommittally, noticing she was still looking at him to respond, but then immersed himself in his papers.

Sarah sank back down into her chair, hiding behind her book. The mood had shifted completely, and she didn't know what else to say. She couldn't blame him for being pessimistic about good in her world if all he'd seen were selfish parents and angsty teenagers. It was clear he abhorred those who traded their children for their dreams, and that revelation made it hard to keep looking at him as the enemy.

She hoped the book on the Labyrinth triggered a solution to the shifts so she could get home quickly.

She wasn't sure she could handle thinking of him as something else.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning started with the same routine. Sarah woke to find breakfast waiting alongside a note to meet Jareth in his office, where she expected she'd spend the day finishing the text on the Labyrinth. She ate, conjured clean clothes, and trekked the familiar path.

She'd made good progress on the book on the Labyrinth. It was much easier to follow, likely because she'd seen that part of the Underground before, and Sarah's morning was spent realizing the myths and legends she'd learned in school weren't all fantasy. It wasn't a big surprise, given she was living her own fantasy, but the stories were too close; the authors Above had to have had contact with the Underground. Either that, or the Underground had sent its history Above.

The Labyrinth had been carved to hold the Minotaur, a half-man, half-bull borne to an immortal woman who had descended from Gods. To keep the beast from wandering wild in hunger, children were brought to run the maze. Even if they reached the center, they never got out again.

That part she knew.

Despite the beast's death – not by the sword of a savior but by poison, she noted - the maze had kept an affinity for children. Sometime later, the goblins had come, realizing the threat had gone. When the fey realized the damage they wrought unattended, they appointed a Goblin King to reign in the chaos.

Sarah thought it a wise decision, given what she'd seen.

After her debacle with initiating yesterday's conversation, Sarah had planned to keep her focus solely on the books, so it came as a surprise when late in the day, Jareth's voice broke the silence. He sounded genuinely interested in how Toby was faring, and after several suspicious accusations, Sarah filled him in on the adventures of the five-year old.

"He's already figured out how to get whatever he wants from my stepmother," she said, wryly. "He'll scream and pout just long enough for her to cave in, and then 'bam', the tears vanish, and he's happy as a clam. It's pretty impressive."

Jareth, unsurprisingly, found Toby's scheming quite amusing. He'd almost gotten a book thrown at him when he'd taken credit for instilling that skill.

They talked about her schooling, how she'd thought she wanted to major in drama, but had enjoyed writing a play for a class the past year and was considering switching to English. How working at the campus coffee shop helped fund her caffeine addiction as the shifts progressed and how she'd probably eaten her weight in lemon poppyseed muffins she'd snuck during breaks. How she'd made up with her stepmother after that night four years ago.

He'd mostly stayed quiet as she talked, offering a wry comment here and there. He seemed particularly amused by her weakness for lemon poppyseed muffins.

"I hadn't thought to distract you with baked goods," he chuckled. "Perhaps sending you a dream of a bakery would have gone better than the masquerade. You'd have been too full to storm the castle."

Sarah laughed at his assessment, but then ran his comment back again. She had always assumed the ball was the product of her girlish fantasies, not something he had specifically sent her. Choosing such an intimate gathering, having her search him out, singing to her. It seemed to go well beyond distraction.

"You created the masquerade? The dancing, the singing. All of it?"

"I sent you an outline of a masquerade. You supplied the particulars." A knowing grin returned. "Who was singing?"

Sarah didn't fall for his innocent tone. She damn well was _not_ going to tell him she'd fantasized about dancing with him. Or that he'd sang to her. Or that had the clock not struck, she might not have broken away.

Or that his one dance had more entrancing than an empire of bakeries.

No, there was no way to explain it without sounding like she'd built the fantasy around _him_. His ego was big enough already.

She changed the subject instead. "I think that's enough about me," she spoke sharply. "What about you?"

He arched an eyebrow, amused by her attempt to dodge his question. "I am the Goblin King. There is nothing else to know."

"Alright, well tell me about being the Goblin King, then. What else do you do besides answering wishes and instructing me on magic? Was your father the Goblin King before you?"

He set the document he'd been reading down on his desk, still watching her with amusement. "Reconsidering whether to seize my throne?"

" _No_ , I'm genuinely interested," she said, closing her own text. And, she realized with a jolt, she _was_ interested and wasn't just stalling. He hadn't offered her any personal information, despite being one half of the plan to restart Time. And the book on the Labyrinth hadn't yet mentioned specifics on any Goblin Kings. She was _living_ in his castle and knew next to nothing about him.

"I told you about my job and family." And then, she mirrored his smirk. "It's only fair."

"Yes, you and your precious need for fairness," he said dryly, shaking his head. "I'd have thought you'd learned better." He paused for several seconds but then to Sarah's surprise, pushed back his chair and walked over to a dark cabinet she'd missed before.

"What are you doing?"

"If you want to know about my father, Sarah, I'm going to need a drink," he said tiredly. "Or several drinks." He pulled out a decanter filled with amber liquid and poured himself a healthy glass.

"He can't be that bad."

He snorted to himself, and then, after a slight hesitation, pulled a second glass from the cabinet and poured in a much smaller portion. Without saying a word, he grabbed the drinks and made his way over to the windows, sitting in the chair across from Sarah. He offered her the smaller portion without comment.

"What is it?" She sniffed it warily. It smelled like something expensive locked up in her father's liquor cabinet. The kind of stuff he only took out for important client meetings.

"Scotch," he said, swirling the glass and taking a large sip from his tumbler. "Despite their many flaws, your people have mastered one thing the fey have not."

"I won't be able to finish this tonight if I drink, Jareth," she said, holding up the book. "I'm a bit of a lightweight." She had only downed 4 shots at her friend Tracey's twenty-first before she'd felt sick. The rest of the party had been a blur. Tequila was no joke.

"Really, Sarah," he chided, "you're the one who wanted to know about my father. It's only _fair_ you join me." He looked over at the page she'd marked in her book. "You've nearly finished that volume, and you've been tasked with mastering a skill that no other human possesses. I should think you've earned yourself a drink."

He made a good point. Several, in fact. And her eyes _were_ sore from almost finishing two ancient texts in three days. That was an obscene amount of reading, even for a college student. She was unlikely to absorb much more tonight, anyway. _Oh, what the hell._

She set the book down on the floor and raised her glass. "To saving the world." At his reciprocal salute, she took a drink of the scotch, coughing as liquid fire spread down her throat. It was much stronger than she expected.

"Easy, Sarah," he grinned. "That scotch is far older than you."

"Thanks for the heads up." She wiped at her eyes, coughing again. She tilted her chin at him. "Go ahead. I'm all ears."

He pursed his lips, considering how to begin. "I assume you've gotten to the part where a Goblin King was appointed to oversee the Labyrinth."

She nodded. "Yeah, because the goblins came. It didn't say much more than that."

"That was likely intentional. The fey equivalent of hiding dirt under the rug." He paused to take another drink. "Perhaps the better idiom is that the appointment killed two birds with one stone."

"I don't understand," she said, frowning.

"It will come as no surprise to you, no doubt, that I had a slight problem with authority in my youth."

She snorted into her drink. "No kidding."

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he continued. "As you might expect, the fey do not handle such challenges well. Particularly those who thought of themselves as near Gods. Eventually, my father was pressured to do something. An opportunity arose to remove the problem, and he took it."

Sarah's forehead creased. "Your father appointed you Goblin King? Because you pissed off someone important?"

"Essentially. My appointment was designed to ensure I stayed out of the way of the imbeciles I'd challenged. The goblins needed to be monitored, and it was assumed I'd be too busy to get in their way."

"I take it that assumption didn't pan out," she said drolly. In the short time she'd known him, she at least knew he wasn't one to give in that easy.

He raised a corner of his lips. "Assuredly not."

She raised her glass in approval. She wouldn't have taken it lying down, either. It seemed odd to her though that his father could just _appoint_ him King. She wasn't well-versed in Underground politics, but becoming the King of anything seemed to be a big deal.

"Can anyone just appoint Kings down here? I'd think that'd get out of control."

He did snort then, taking another sip of his drink. "Hardly. My father, spineless as he is, had the distinct honor of being the oldest son born to the High King. When the time came, my grandfather ceded the throne."

Sarah eyes bulged. "But that means…your _father_ is the High King?" She'd read enough to know what that meant. He basically oversaw everything. "And he still sent you away?"

"Hence the drinking, Sarah," he tilted his glass at her. "What my father lacks in resolve, he makes up for in pandering to his Council. The aforementioned imbeciles." He took the last of his drink, and stood, moving to the cabinet to refill it.

She considered his position. Something about his tone didn't sound right. "Are you the oldest?" If he was, that would mean…

"If you're thinking that I'll be able to put them all in their place one day soon, don't. My father's Council would never allow it. And you've already heard how _supportive_ my father has been."

Sarah knew he was trying to hide his frustration by not turning her way, but she heard the bitterness in his voice. He'd basically had his birthright taken away from him because he'd set off the wrong people. Not only that, he'd been sidelined to manage a kingdom of goblins. The punishment hardly seemed fair.

She froze.

No wonder he'd been so derisive of her outburst during her run. And here she was, messing with his control of his castle too. He couldn't catch a break.

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Don't be. You had nothing to do with it. As I said yesterday, actions have consequences." He turned back to her then, glass refilled. "Being Goblin King does have its benefits. I don't have to deal with their vicious politics, for one. And as they've come to depend on those wished away to me, they leave me mostly in peace."

"Mostly?"

He hesitated briefly, but the alcohol had loosened his tongue. "The shifts have caused…disruptions in the number of wished away children. With time Above now stopped, so have the wishes. The matter has suddenly become one of the Council's priorities."

"The same Council that hates you," she confirmed, taking another sip of scotch.

He made his way back to his chair by the windows, and sat down hard, looking at her with dark eyes. "Which is why it is imperative we reverse it quickly."

"If I were you, I'd tell the Council to piss off. It sounds like they've controlled your life and now they're just impatient to get you back to taking children for them. Assholes."

He smirked in agreement. "I don't disagree with you on that assessment. After we fix this, you have my permission to tell them off. The look on their faces would make up for years of meddling. They wouldn't know what to make of you."

Sarah grinned, and stuck out her hand to shake his. "It's a deal."

* * *

As finishing her book after her glass of scotch was a lost cause, Sarah had spent the rest of her evening in the office rehashing to Jareth what she'd learned about the Labyrinth. She had expected the mechanics of running for a wished away child to appear early in the book, but the maze's history and other assorted matters had dominated the text thus far.

"I'm just to getting to what happens when someone Above wishes a child away. How you are compelled to answer. Did the Council know about the Labyrinth's call for children when they picked you?"

"I doubt it. To my knowledge, there had been no wished away children before my appointment. But they appreciated the extra distractions it brought."

"I'm sure they did," she huffed. "Well, I'm hopeful something in the end of this one will trigger what I need to do. It's made much more sense to me than the first book."

"I'll take that as a good sign. I find the books equally vague."

Sarah found that odd, given his position. And something was nagging her about the book. "If you were the first Goblin King, who wrote this book? It must have been written _after_ you were appointed. You must have been consulted, at least."

Jareth couldn't hide his frown. That particular aspect bothered him as well. "The old books are just that – old. They were written long before my time, by those who saw what was to come. It is hard to explain how, but it coincides with their obscurity."

"They are prophecies?" Sarah asked, brow furrowing. "The _entire_ set of books?"

"Not quite, but correct in essence. Think of them as the guide to our ways. A combination of laws and future history.

Her curiosity got the better of her. "Has it all come true?"

"It's hard to say, but the essentials seem accurate. But as I said, they are obscure and I've been unable to find reference to our particular dilemma." He nodded at her. "Another reason why I thought it'd be helpful to have a second pair of eyes read through, given your old magic."

She was about to ask him if _she_ was in the book, but thought it wiser not to ask. She'd find out when she finished the text. Tomorrow, when her head wasn't fuzzy with liquor.

"I'm calling it a night," she said, yawning. "Thanks for the scotch." He merely nodded in acknowledgement.

The sconces had been lit tonight, and Sarah followed them back to her room. Crawling into bed, she let the scotch whisk her off to sleep.

* * *

Sarah rarely slept through the night after drinking hard liquor, and that night was no exception.

The sky was dark when she woke. Sarah didn't need a clock to tell that the hour was early; her body was familiar with sleepless nights. The added stress and alcohol also didn't help.

She rolled over several times, trying to find a comfortable position that would trick her body into falling back asleep. Counting sheep, stupid as it was, sometimes helped, but wasn't working its magic that night. Her mind was racing with thoughts of the Labyrinth. She groaned, flipping onto her stomach and burying her face in her pillow. Try as she might, all she could think about was whether she had been foretold in the book.

"Oh, screw it," she cursed, kicking the coverlet off. She wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep anytime soon. She'd just go get the book and finish it now. Then she'd know.

The sconces, thankfully, had remained lit and Sarah found her way back to the office without incident. It was there, however, that the situation changed.

The office door was open a crack, and as Sarah inched towards it, she realized the room was bathed in light. Voices were mumbling inside. Curious, Sarah stuck her ear towards the crack to try and decipher what was being said. Jareth hadn't mentioned that he was expecting a visitor. And it seemed far too early for someone to arrive unannounced.

The conversation was unintelligible. Sarah pushed herself closer to the door, intent on hearing _something_ , but then cringed when her elbow brushed against the door too hard, and her spying was revealed with a sickening creak.

"Sarah."

She stuck her head around the door frame nervously. "Sorry. I couldn't sleep. I was just going to grab the book."

Jareth was seated at his desk, staring at her with strange fatigue. In her spindly chair sat another man dressed in blue and gray. He had turned his head of copper hair back to look at her curiously.

"This is her, then?" He was clearly asking the Goblin King, but Jareth didn't confirm. "Her timing is impeccable."

Sarah didn't like the sound of that. She had thought Jareth had wanted her presence kept quiet. Or at least, he'd wanted her magic kept quiet. She sent Jareth her best "what-the-hell?" look.

"Sarah dear, come here," he drawled.

She was about to retort that she was not his _dear_ , but something in his eyes stopped her. Something like a warning. She furrowed her brow, but walked over to him quietly, avoiding the eyes of the other man. Jareth had pushed his chair back from the desk slightly and to her horror, he was patting his leg, as if it was only natural she'd use that instead of a chair.

_What the fucking hell?_

She fixed him another look, making sure the other man only saw the back of her head. Jareth's expression only darkened. She was going to kill him, she decided. Later. When there were no witnesses. And after he told her what was going on.

She gave him one last glare, but then, ever the actress, she wiped her face clean and sat down carefully on the edge of his leg. It was only her years of drama training that stopped her from flinching when his arm came around her waist and pulled her closer. Her cotton shorts rode up with his sweep, offering little barrier from the heat of his body.

She was _definitely_ going to kill him. Slowly. And with as many pointy things as she could conjure.

"Sarah dear, this is my half-brother Arlyck. He was just bringing regards from the Council. They've invited us to dine with them. Tonight," he spoke easily, but his hand squeezed her side in warning.

"Oh. That's…nice," she finished lamely. She didn't know what else to say. She was confident Jareth hadn't told them of what they were doing to fix the shifts, so she couldn't imagine why the Council possibly wanted to see her. She hadn't even thought anyone else knew she was _here._

She realized the man - _Arlyck_ , she recalled - was still looking at her as if awaiting another response. "Well…uh thanks for passing the message along. Especially at this hour."

"Of course, it was no trouble. I'm you sure you know better than I that Jareth's an early riser."

_Oh, shit._ That was _not_ something she thought she should know. She got a sinking feeling she knew exactly why Jareth had manhandled her into his lap. He'd clearly taken extreme liberties in explaining her presence to his half-brother. She bit down on her tongue to keep herself from screaming.

Arlyck stood then, bowing his head at the pair. "I'll take my leave now. I'll see you both tonight."

Jareth had already formed a crystal before he'd completed his good-bye. "Allow me, Arlyck. Sarah and I have preparations to make." And before Arlyck had the chance to respond, the crystal had been thrown, and the man vanished.

Sarah leapt up from Jareth's lap, furious. " _What the hell,_ Jareth? What was all that about?"

He rubbed at his eyes wearily, grimacing. "Unfortunately, the Council has decided they want to meet you."

"You told me they didn't know about my magic."

"They don't," he said firmly.

"Then why, exactly, did they invite me to dinner?"

He hesitated, but found there wasn't a delicate way to explain it. "They do not think you are here to fix the shifts, Sarah. They don't know of your magic. They think you are here for me."

"For you," she repeated dully.

He nodded. "I don't entertain many guests. And I'm supposed to be focused solely on reversing the issue Above. They are interested to see the woman who's been distracting my attention. You understand what they assume."

_Well, shit._ That was just what she needed – to be paraded in front of those assholes as Jareth's piece of meat. She narrowed her eyes at him, but held her tongue.

"Trust me when I say the alternative is worse. You wouldn't get an invitation if they thought you were here to fix the shifts with your old magic. They would just take you." He sighed. "I know this only adds more pressure, but keeping them convinced you are only here for me is critical. Arlyck reports straight to the Council. Given what he just saw, he'll confirm as much." He paused a second. "I do thank you for playing along."

Sarah frowned. She agreed the lie sounded better than being snatched up. Especially given what she knew of the Council. She sighed. _What a mess_. "I expect they think I wished myself away? To you?" It sounded pathetic, even to her. "Do they know I was here before?"

He nodded again. "It provides you a believable basis for returning. We'll tell them you couldn't forget about me or some nonsense like that."

_Right. Nonsense._

"Just wonderful. Those assholes have terrible timing." She had thought she'd finish up the books, figure out her magic, and be right on her way. So much for that plan.

"No argument there," he agreed, grinning slightly. "Try not to call them that tonight, though. I gave you permission to curse them out _after_ we've fixed the problem."

"I'll do my best," and then, with a grimace, " _dear."_

He smirked in approval. "Good. Let me get you something to eat. I'm afraid it's going to be a long day."

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

To Sarah's dismay, Jareth was right. It was a long day.

Instead of discovering whether she was mentioned in book on the Labyrinth, Sarah spent the morning being instructed on basic fey etiquette. Her goal was to fly under the radar as much as possible so the Council didn't ask too many questions. Jareth noted with some amusement that her typical brash persona would be certain to ruffle feathers that they did not want ruffled. She was to be neutral, obedient, and _quiet_.

Given what she'd been told of the Council's likely reaction to a human being gifted with magic, she was unsurprised to learn that most fey, Council included, thought very little of humans. They were seen as weak, unsophisticated, and undesirable unless they were young. Sarah found that tension odd, but Jareth didn't immediately elaborate. Sarah had then asked how he planned on explaining why he was 'entertaining' an older human without bringing more trouble on himself. It was only then that he explained how she was young enough for one reason human females were tolerated; fertility. Sarah had flushed at that.

She was pleased to discover she would not be expected to call him 'dear' all evening. She wasn't convinced she could do it with a straight face. If spoken to, she was to refer to Jareth as 'His Majesty' or 'His Highness' or something equally dignified and impersonal. Jareth thought it likely they only wished to ogle her, not inquire unto her impressions of him, so he didn't expect her to have to answer many questions.

Just to be safe, however, they concocted an elaborate story. One where she had been _pining_ for him after she'd left the Underground, having been captivated by his beauty and power, and wished herself away to him. Jareth, being the magnanimous King, had gladly accepted her as his prize. Sarah had scoffed loudly at his puffery, but went along with the lie. The whole thing was a charade, anyway. What did she care if he flaunted his charms to the Council? She actually hoped it made the bastards jealous.

Jareth thought it most likely the evening would be spent with the Council grilling him on what he was doing to restart Time above. Apparently, Jareth's father had done them one courtesy by delegating the whole task to him. It was necessary to convince them that Jareth was making progress so that it remained that way. Most importantly, he had to convince them there was no need to closely monitor his efforts. She didn't need to be reminded again about what would happen if an outsider saw her magic.

Jareth had instructed her to look suitably confused during this whole discussion. Obviously, she wasn't supposed to be involved in anything Jareth was attempting. He had promised to handle any questions that involved the shifts. It was there, however, that Sarah thought she found a problem with their plan.

"Does the Council know that I was the only one to notice the shifts Above? Or if not, find it odd that I was able to wish myself away when Time was frozen? Because either sounds problematic."

"If it comes up, which I doubt it will, say you do not understand what they mean. There should be no reason why they would know you noticed the shifts. As I said, they do not know of your gifts. As for the last, I suggest we make clear you wished yourself away a week ago, before Time stopped. They have no way of knowing any different."

Sarah hoped he was right. He was gambling on the Council not knowing very much about a problem he told her they had suddenly prioritized. She, for one, still found it odd that they were being invited to dinner when Jareth was supposed to be devoting his time to reversing the issue. She'd think they wouldn't want to distract him further. Especially given how 'busy' he apparently already was with her. That thought raised several troubling questions.

"I'm not gong to have to sit in your lap all dinner, am I?"

He had the gall to flash a grin in response. "No, as an invited guest you'll be given your own chair. But I'm sure you realize we have to make the situation… _convincing_."

Sarah scowled. She was certain he intended to be _very_ convincing. If this morning had been any indication, he had no qualms about treating her like his prized possession. And he'd probably take obscene pleasure in having her at his beck and call.

_Damn it._ She should have known giving up her power would come back to bite her.

She'd, of course, be required to play the part of the dutiful woman, enamored by the King she'd wished herself away to. It was all a performance, she told herself. She had to imagine it was just another role to play. She could act like his plaything for one night.

_He at least wasn't terrible to look at it._

She scowled again, furious at her subconscious. It was those kinds of thoughts that would get her into trouble. One night, then it was back to solving the shifts and getting _home_.

She realized he was staring at her with a pained expression. One she found could only mean that she was in for more trouble. "What is it?"

"I think it likely you will find their discussions of you…crass. Perhaps bordering on obscene. I am telling you now so it won't catch you off-guard. I have to play my part as well."

Well, at least he was warning her she wouldn't be treated like a queen. She waved him off. "It's fine. I can handle it." She'd been called names before. Her penchant for fairytales and drama hadn't exactly made her popular in high school. And these people - _fey_ , she corrected herself – would never see her again so it didn't matter what they thought. She'd just keep quiet, smile her doting smile, and the night would be over quickly. How long could a dinner possibly take?

Unfortunately, as Jareth then explained over lunch, likely longer than she'd expected.

"At least five courses are typical for formal dinners. Given it's the Council, it might be more," he explained, clearly bothered by that possibility. "I'll do my best to speed the conversation along so they don't dawdle."

Unsurprisingly, there was etiquette as to the dining itself, too. She was to wait until Jareth started eating before doing so herself, to refill his glass if needed, and to keep her gaze on her plate or on Jareth unless specifically addressed by a member of the Council.

She was being called a 'guest', but really, it seemed like she was just there to be a pretty prop.

The process of selecting her outfit confirmed as much.

" _Seriously,_ Jareth?" she exclaimed, holding up the gown he'd pulled from her armoire. "I thought I was trying to fly _under_ the radar."

The piece he'd selected was floor length and rich red, with long belled sleeves that pointed at the cuffs. The bodice was beaded with what looked like thousands of tiny ruby crystals, fanning down to the waist like a sunburst. She conceded it was beautiful, but not something she'd wear to dinner with people she'd never met. And especially not when she was trying to keep them from paying her much attention and asking her too many questions. Choosing a bold color with an uncomfortably low neckline was just asking for trouble.

Something dark flashed in his eyes. "We are trying to send a message, Sarah. This dress will make it clear to the Council that you are not some passing fancy. That you are not something that I'm willing to share. It needs to be exceedingly clear that you are _mine_."

Sarah's heart jumped up into her throat as his voice turned guttural. Possessive. As she tried to control her breathing, she suddenly realized how dangerous a game they were playing. How the wrong performance would bring more than criticism. How one wrong move meant being snatched up, to be hidden away and forgotten or used for her body. Perhaps worse.

She took the dress into the washroom to change without another word.

He had gone when she returned, and Sarah distracted herself with doing up her hair with an elegant comb she found on the vanity. The color slowly returned to her face, aided by the swipes of rouge she applied from one the tins in its drawer.

She was dressed for the part. She knew her role. There was no monologue to memorize, but her lines could not be forgotten.

All too soon, he returned, dressed in matching archaic finery. The rich red of his doublet screamed another message for the Council. She noted absently that he'd removed his gloves, but she was too focused on controlling her breathing to comment. A pursing of lips, her tight nod, and with his clasp of her arm, they were gone.

* * *

Her stomach had already been in her throat, so the sinking feeling of transportation went almost unnoticed.

She held on tightly to Jareth as they materialized in a windowless chamber that been painted with white marble. She kept her grip as he led them down several hallways and only squeezed harder when he stopped in front of heavy double doors. An unfamiliar golden triangle that contained an inverted Z with two parallel lines through its center emblazoned the dark wood. It was meaningless. Still, the hairs on Sarah's arms stood on ends.

"Breathe, Sarah," he mumbled, hand on the doors. "Know you are leagues above them." And without turning to see her startled reaction, he pushed open the doors.

It wasn't a dining room.

Sarah instead found herself being led down another long marbled hall. Several portraits of fair-haired men stared down from the walls, each face more solemn than the last. Sarah recognized the copper headed figure seated at a desk at the end of the hall.

"Arlyck," Jareth greeted him expressionlessly. "I do hope we haven't kept the Council waiting long."

Arlyck frowned at him. "They are used to your need to make an entrance, Jareth. That's not who I'd be concerned about."

The hand on Sarah's arm squeezed down hard, but she stopped herself from flinching. Something was wrong. Something unexpected. He knew the Council; he shouldn't have been surprised by a greeting at their door.

"He's here?" Jareth's voice had turned cold. Without warning, he pulled Sarah to his side, still keeping his hand clenched on her arm.

"I had to let him know. You should have known he'd be interested."

The sinking feeling, having subsided upon Jareth's unexpected compliment, returned with a vengeance and the blood rushed from Sarah's face. She had a pretty good idea of who would be interested; of who would cause such a visceral reaction in Jareth.

_"_ _Fuck it all,"_ Jareth whispered to himself. This was not something they'd prepared for. He was glad he'd at least explained his situation to Sarah yesterday, but his father's presence added the extra attention they were desperately trying to avoid.

As Arlyck moved to open one of the doors behind his desk, Jareth tilted his head down to Sarah's ear, pressing his face against hers in a position he hoped disguised the warning he was whispering. "Stick to the plan. Try not to let him get a good look at you. And whatever you do, do _not_ accept any offer he makes you."

Sarah gritted her teeth, but nodded tightly. The plan was the same. Jareth's father was just an added wrinkle to iron out. An immortal, supremely powerful, royal wrinkle. The _head_ wrinkle, as it were. No big deal. She'd out-foxed kings before. She plastered a neutral expression on her face and leaned in closer to Jareth.

Six pairs of eyes looked up from the table when they entered. Sarah's eyes unconsciously darted to the pair at the head of the table, but just as quickly, she forced her focus downwards. The High King had the same sandy shade of hair and sharp features, the same upswept markings. That alone would have given him away, but his position at the table and the gilded crown atop his head made him unmistakable.

Sarah fell into a curtsy, dropping lower than Jareth had instructed, before returning to his side. She assumed the High King demanded greater respect than the Council. She wasn't sure what Jareth thought of it, but disrespecting the High King seemed like a sure-fire way to get herself into an unpleasant situation. Jareth's hand on her hip didn't squeeze in warning, so she took that as a good sign.

"Good evening, father. Council," he tilted his head, but did not bow.

"You certainly took your time, Jareth."

Jareth's hand slowly traced up her side, stopping only after he'd brushed past the swell of her breasts. Sarah's pulse sped at the unexpected touch of skin on skin, but she didn't flinch.

_Breathe, Sarah. B-r-e-a-t-h-e._

"My apologies, father. You know how difficult is to deny the pleas of women."

Jareth's hand near her shoulder tightened, and Sarah took that as her cue to paste a dreamy expression across her face as she curled her neck back against his chest. She took his satisfied smirk as indication her own 'satisfaction' had been convincing. _No problem_ , she thought. Forcing a few pitiful looks his way was doable. She turned back towards the table, still holding the smile.

That's when her trouble started.

Slowly, he began kneading small circles at the base of her neck, still holding her tight against him. She'd been tense – she _knew_ he'd known that - and the feeling of deft fingers massaging out those knots coaxed her neck to bend. Caused her eyes to flutter. Forced her appreciative sigh. She snapped her eyes open when she felt him smile against the curve of her neck.

"Yes, I was told you've acquired a pretty new pet. Foolish thing wished herself away to you, no doubt?"

Jareth only grinned in response, holding Sarah tightly against him. Sarah forced herself to keep her face blank, despite the slight and the steady pounding in her veins.

The High King sighed. "Come sit, we have much to discuss."

Two seats at the far end of the table had been left open, and Sarah let him lead her to the one farthest from the High King. Jareth pulled back her chair and with a swish of her skirt, she took her place. He followed right behind her, resting his hand at the pulse of her throat.

She wasn't going to have to do much acting if he kept his hand on her neck all night, she realized. Those achingly small circles would be the only thing she'd need. Her back arched when the circles moved lower.

He'd known _exactly_ what he was doing when he lost his gloves.

"She's much prettier than your last whore. I see why you've been distracted." Several others snickered at his comment.

Sarah didn't look up at the voice across the table, thankful Jareth had warned her of the Council members' tendency for vulgarity. She bit down of her tongue. _That didn't take long_.

"I assure you, Thorin, that's she's been more distracted by me," he drawled, and Sarah's pulse raced again as his hand traced down her side. "My reward for all the work I'm doing on the shifts."

_Good_ , Sarah thought, swallowing hard. He was pressing on to the important bit. Perhaps if he explained it well enough, she wouldn't have to suffer through five-plus courses. But as his hand started making those circles at the back of her neck again, that thought was lost. This was definitely a suffering she could endure.

"Yes, that's why we're here. We're concerned you've been spending more time in bed with your whore than working to solve the problem Above. We've seen no progress." A nasally voice cut in, clearly displeased with Jareth's efforts. Sarah assumed it to be one of the Council. She kept her head down, as instructed.

"The old magic does not bend at will. My enchantments must be precise, gradual, and carefully ordered." He took a casual sip of his drink, not bothering to meet the eyes of the nasally Council member.

"I'm sure you know we have our own suggestion. We could test it tonight." A third voice cut in, this one dark.

"My enchantments are going according to plan. The solution takes time," Jareth growled. The lie leapt from his mouth easily. The pressure of his circles got harder.

Sarah was grateful when a bowl of soup suddenly appeared at her place. She desperately needed a distraction, an excuse for why she felt so flushed. It was a miracle she remembered to wait for him to take his bite before eating.

"And how long will these enchantments take? Perhaps you need some assistance to speed progress along?" The first vulgar voice cut back in.

"That would be counterproductive as it can only be undone by the one who caused it. It will not be much longer." He paused for a second, weaving some urgency into his next line. "I have work to do tonight, in fact. Sarah and I can't stay long."

"If you have work to do, I'm sure you can spare one night away from your pet," the High King interrupted. "I'd be happy to entertain her in your absence. What do you say, girl?"

The circles abruptly stopped. Sarah saw Jareth's other hand clench around his spoon so hard she thought he may snap it in two, but he said nothing as his eyes twitched in her direction. She felt the burning eyes of the High King, suddenly realizing he had addressed the question at her.

_Oh, fuck. This was what Jareth had tried to warn her about. Her outfit might have warded off the Council, but the High King had no qualms about borrowing something of Jareth's._

_Think, Sarah. THINK._

"Yours is an exceedingly generous offer, but I must decline. His Highness requires my attentions after his long nights of casting. I am dedicated in my service." She dropped her head as a bow of apology, hoping she sounded demure enough. Dining with fey was an exercise in madness.

A low chuckle followed her response, and Sarah took a deep breath. The High King at least did not sound angry.

"A shame," the High King tutted, leaning back in his chair. "You've trained her well, Jareth. She's entirely devoted to you."

"Yes, Sarah is quite the prize," he drawled, un-clenching his hand from his spoon and returning his other to the back to her neck. "You know I always get what I want."

It was only his merciless circles that stopped her from whipping her head in his direction. Something about that comment did _not_ sound right. In the story they concocted, it had been _her_ pining away for him, not the opposite. She didn't have a back-up story if the Council started asking questions about why she'd returned.

Leave it to Jareth to screw up his own plan.

She had to get his attention without bringing more on herself. It seemed like they'd been close to extricating themselves from this damned dinner. They needed to _leave_ before those questions were asked.

The soup bowls were replaced with plates of brightly colored salads. As the rest of the table moved to take a bite, Sarah pressed her heel hard into his boot, sending a look of concern when he turned her way. She leaned over, hiding her face behind the pitcher as she pretended to refill his water glass.

" _The story was me pining for you,"_ she hissed quietly. _"What if they start asking me questions?"_

She knew when he dropped his fork down hard on the table that he realized he'd bungled the plan. The room stilled.

"Problem with the salad, Jareth?" the High King inquired.

He gave Sarah a quick pleading glance before snapping his head back to his father. "I apologize for the haste, but Sarah and I must be taking our leave," he pushed his chair back. "Sarah has just told me she's feeling faint." His lips curled into a convincing smile as he eyed her without turning. "It was a tiring afternoon."

He pulled her up roughly to lean against him. Sarah, understanding his escape plan, held on to his side tightly and let herself sag. It was as good an idea as any. Even if it made her look like an idiot.

Maybe the High King would lose interest now, at least.

With her eyes closed, she didn't see anyone else stand, but she heard the tell-tale scratch of another chair being pushed back.

"Really, Jareth. You need to take better care of your toys." But then, he sighed. " _Go_. We expect regular updates on those enchantments."

"Of course." He turned to the seated Council members, nodding quickly before they had time to convince his father otherwise. "Always a pleasure," he said lowly.

Sarah felt herself being rushed out of the room, but didn't open her eyes until she heard the slam of the heavy wooden doors. The subsequent sinking feeling was a welcome escape.

"Ugh. You weren't kidding," Sarah cried when he let her go, pulling the comb from her hair and throwing it on her vanity. "Assholes, all of them."

"Yes, but you did well, considering the circumstances." He sidled up behind her, brushing back the hair from the shoulder he'd spent the evening rubbing. "You put on a very convincing performance."

She froze when his hand skimmed the spot again. He clearly knew what that did to her; he'd had his fingers tracing her pulse all night long. Unintentional or not, she'd done herself a huge disfavor by letting out that sigh.

She swallowed thickly. "Well…someone had to stick to the plan," she whispered. "We're lucky he let us leave."

"Mhmm." He didn't sound at all remorseful. His other hand settled at her hip, his face centimeters from her ear, breath whisper-soft against her face. "I don't think your reactions were _planned_." Sarah couldn't stop herself from arching when she felt the hand on her hip slowly trace back towards her breasts.

_Bad. Bad with a capital B-A-D. Pull yourself together, Sarah!_

She forced herself to pull away, rushing to escape to the washroom. "Yes, well," she swallowed again, not looking at him. "I'm a very good actress." Sarah knew it was a poor excuse even before he chuckled darkly.

"Oh, _Sarah_ ," he sighed, stretching her syllables like taffy, "no one is _that_ good."

Sarah slammed the washroom door behind her, sliding back against it and willing her pulse to slow.

She was in _so. much. trouble._


	10. Chapter 10

Sarah spent several long minutes just staring up at the ceiling when she woke the next morning. Her cover hadn't been blown, but the evening had definitely _not_ gone as planned. And now, Jareth knew full well of her weaknesses. It was too much to hope that he'd just forget about what had happened, of how her pulse had raced under his fingers. Her heart was already racing again.

The coverlet was thrown off. The room was suddenly too warm.

He was sure to try something again, if only to rile her up. He'd always seemed exceedingly pleased with himself when he caught her unawares or made her flush, as if it was part of some strange game in which there were no rules and only he could win. That was a game she refused to play.

She had tried the obvious defense, but her acting excuse had fooled no one. She doubted another excuse would fare better. She needed a new plan. Some way to keep his attentions away so she could learn what she had to do to get home. She could not let herself get distracted, no matter how much he affected her. So what if she was attracted to him? That didn't change what needed to be done.

She'd just have to try something more direct. Something to throw him off-guard.

She damn well was _not_ going to let him have the upper-hand.

Per usual, he was seated behind his desk when she strode into his office. She pushed aside her spindly chair and slammed her hands down on the front of his desk before he had the chance to speak. Sarah was pleased to see he looked startled.

"Look," she began, "I'm not going to deny the attraction, but what happened last night _doesn't change anything_. We have work to do, and neither of us wants the Council or your father butting in if we don't fix this quickly." She stopped, noticing then he no longer seemed startled, but sated. Like the cat who got his proverbial cream as well as the canary. She narrowed her eyes.

"Don't even _think_ about it," she ground out. "You know I need to focus." And without another word, she huffed back to her chair in the corner to bury herself in her book.

"It seems as if you were the one thinking of it," he drawled, holding up the book in his hands. "I was merely reading." The book was returned to the desk as he tilted back in his chair, grinning. "Having trouble focusing?"

"I'm trying to _read_." She slid further into her chair, trying to ignore him as much as possible. She'd made a good case. They were on a tight schedule, especially now that the Council _and_ the High King wanted regular updates. They had absolutely nothing to show them if they barged in. That alone should have been enough to convince him to knock it off. She dropped her book down to glare at his amused grin.

"You should be focusing on what to show them if they suddenly drop by to see those enchantments you made up. Your father sounded pretty interested in what you were trying."

Jareth's grin faltered. She was right. There was a dangerous possibility that his father would check up on him now that he'd told him and the Council that fixing the Above wouldn't take much longer. His father's obvious interest in Sarah made it all the more likely.

The matter of her admission would unfortunately have to wait.

"I can handle my father, but I take your point. Finish your book." And without even a smirk, he refocused his attention on his own book.

Sarah's jaw dropped. She had not expected him to back off without testing her limits. Jareth's father was an excellent ace to have in her pocket, she decided. Jareth's own version of kryptonite. Especially if just the mention of a possible visit was enough to steer him back to his books.

_Now who has the upper-hand?_

She smirked, finding her place in her book again. She'd wasted a whole day in preparing for that disastrous dinner, but had finally reached the section on the wished away and their runners. If the book held any key as to how to reverse what he'd done during her run, she thought it most likely it would be found there.

Having finished the section on the Goblin King's compulsion to answer the wishes as well as to offer the wishers a chance at reclaiming their child, Sarah turned the page to the run itself and frowned.

"You broke the _only_ rule?" She asked incredulously. "No wonder we're in such a mess."

Jareth clenched the edges of his book tighter, but said nothing. He was well aware he'd made a mistake. An indefinite number of distractions had been available to him and he'd gone and chosen the one thing that was forbidden.

Sarah ran her finger down the page discussing the rule and the role of the Goblin King during a wisher's attempt to reclaim their wished away. The thirteen-hour period was a thing of old magic, borne in recognition of the thirteen child sacrifices that had been lost in the year of the Minotaur's death. The fourteenth child that year, as she'd read earlier, had outwitted the beast by tricking it to eat poisoned food. The thirteen-hour period was ingrained because of his feat.

_There_ _ **must**_ _be thirteen hours: thirteen hours to give wishers a chance at retrieving the wished away child, thirteen hours to take back the power of the wish, thirteen hours to leave the Labyrinth_.

Sarah thought it a bit repetitive, but the point was clear. Because of the thirteen sacrificed children, the wishers had to be given thirteen hours to get their wished away child and go back home. And of course, Jareth had broken that one requirement. No consequences followed the order, leaving Sarah perplexed as to what needed to be done to reverse its damage. Undeterred, she read on.

While the hours were set in stone, the rest of the challenge was surprisingly flexible. The Goblin King was free to distract and delay by whatever means he thought best, even if that meant distracting a runner with himself. Sarah scowled, somehow bothered by the thought of him fulfilling the sordid whims of the other runners.

He'd certainly tried the same with her, sending her that masquerade and then promising himself to her if she'd only 'fear him' and 'love him.' He probably tried that line with all the girls, she thought.

It'd likely worked with some.

She scowled again, turning the page. If a wisher failed to reach the castle before the thirteen hours expired, the child was forfeit to the Underground and the wisher awoke Above, none the wiser of what had occurred. All memories, any inkling of the child's existence Above, would be erased. And the wisher would remember nothing of the Underground, but would always feel as if a piece of themselves had been lost.

That bit was interesting, but not useful to their predicament. Sarah remembered everything about her journey and Toby was safe at home. She needed to know about those who _won._

Eventually, she found it.

Buried at the bottom several pages later, almost as a footnote, was a single line explaining that someone who successfully navigated the Labyrinth would reclaim their wished away child.

Sarah flipped to the next page, and then back again, not believing that only _one_ line, a footnote at that, had been written on those who made it to the center of the Labyrinth. There had to be more than that. A description of the memories they kept, the consequences of winning, _something_. But instead of further explanation, the following page only held some sort of limerick.

She skimmed it quickly, but it didn't reference any wishing or the thirteen-hour rule. Instead, it spoke of Aries' 'weapon' and the 'lines of war.' Something about Aries calling a match? It sounded like trouble; the goblin army was sure to lose in any match against the God of War. Sarah sighed, setting her book down and turning to Jareth.

"Are you expecting some sort of battle? There's a strange poem in here about Aries, the God of War."

Jareth frowned, closing his own. "I should hope not. You've seen how effective the goblin army is against intruders."

Sarah pinched her lips tight, thinking. "If these books really have been accurate, you might want to have a combat training session or two. There's a paragraph in here predicting war and weapons. Sounds like trouble to me."

"I find it highly unlikely another fey would go to war over the Labyrinth. As you are well aware, Goblin King was not a coveted position. I suspect you are misinterpreting the text."

Sarah frowned, returning back to the book. She agreed it sounded odd. Doubly so for it to be included in the section on the wished away. "Maybe. Just passing along what I made of it."

There were dozens of pages after the limerick, but as Sarah thumbed past them quickly, she noted they were lists of names of children the Labyrinth had kept. Or would keep. She wasn't entirely sure. Either way, it was not what she was looking for. There was nothing else on what happened if a wisher retrieved their child or was given less than thirteen hours. Just the one footnote.

She turned back to the footnote, re-reading it to make sure she hadn't missed anything, but it was short and straightforward:

_The wisher would reclaim their wished away child._

"I find it odd that there's several pages dedicated to what happens to those who don't reach the center in time but only a footnote on what happens when someone does."

She drew her eyes back to him, expecting to find him in agreement on that peculiarity, but he looked resigned, as if he had long been expecting that question. Sarah's stomach twisted uncomfortably.

"The book focuses on what has been and what will be. Had you not wished your brother away, there might not even be a footnote. I think it unlikely."

It couldn't be possible, she thought. There's no way she was the _only_ one to get to the castle in time. "I was the only person to win?" She asked, hoping she misunderstood.

He grimaced at her incredulous tone, but nodded.

Sarah snapped her book shut, knowing now why he'd thought she was so 'intricately' tied to the problem. She moved quickly from her chair by the windows back to his desk, slamming her hands down for the second time that day.

"I'm the only person to win _and_ I didn't even do it with the required thirteen hours. And I bet you've never reordered time before." Neither was phrased as a question, but the Goblin King nodded tightly anyway. "And you didn't think it was important to tell me that before now?"

"Does knowing those details now enlighten you on what needs to be done to reverse things Above?" He countered, surprisingly calm.

Sarah groaned, moving her hands back to her side. " _No_ , but those seem to be pretty major details, Jareth. I thought we were trying to fix this _together._ If I'm going to recognize something helpful in the books, I need to know what details to look for!"

Jareth pursed his lips. It pained him to admit it, but she was right. He wasn't sure how the information helped, but he at least owed her the details of her own run . "I…apologize," he grimaced, "I should have offered that information earlier. I did not think it necessary."

Sarah sighed, falling back into her spindly chair, and rubbing at her eyes. "Apology accepted. You're right too, though. That doesn't help me figure out what to do." She dropped her hand and looked at him curiously. "Why did you think my victory came with an award of magic? I didn't see that anywhere."

He made an elegant twist of his wrist and Sarah found the book on the Labyrinth on the desk in front of her.

"Re-read the line about wishes in the rule. _Closely_." He flipped to the page with a whish of fingers.

Sarah looked at him oddly for a second – the rule had seemed pretty clear – but re-read the line anyway.

_There_ _ **must**_ _be thirteen hours: thirteen hours to give wishers a chance at retrieving the wished away child, thirteen hours to take back the power of the wish, thirteen hours to leave the Labyrinth_.

She read it again. And again. She snapped her eyes back to his.

"To take _back_ the power of the wish? As in, because I didn't use thirteen hours, I kept the power to wish? And not only that, I can now wish for other things besides you and the goblins?"

"That's how I interpreted it. But as I've said many times, I find the books obscure. I do not know what the power entails or what you can wish for." He paused briefly, canting his head. "I had been hoping the rule and the section on the wished away would trigger something for you. Something else to try?"

She shook her head tiredly. "I've got nothing. There were only a handful of pages on what happens when a wisher decides to run the Labyrinth, and just the one line on what happens if one wins." She sighed, strangely disappointed that she wasn't included. "It didn't even _mention_ me. Not counting the line if someone won. Don't you find that strange?"

"Exceedingly." It had been plaguing him ever since she'd won and the shifts began. He'd hoped she'd notice something he hadn't. It appeared not.

"How do you do it?" She suddenly asked.

"Pardon?"

"The crystals and transportation." She made a vague motion with her hand. "Magic. Surely you don't just wish for something? Maybe I should try your method."

He brought a hand to his lips, considering her suggestion. It was unlikely to work, but there seemed no harm in trying. "Very well. You are correct in that no wishing is involved in what I do. I simply visualize what I need, where I need to go. The results are now instinctual. It wasn't always."

"You just think of whatever you need and it happens? Just like that?"

"It's not an unlimited ability. There are things I desire that I cannot just visualize and attain, but yes, you've touched on the basics."

"Like what?"

"Like reversing the issue Above, for one," he drawled, raising an eyebrow. "Or as you should have guessed, affecting the mind of the Council or my father. If I could, this situation would be far less problematic."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Alright, that seems pretty straightforward. I'll start with something tangible." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, visualizing something simple.

_I need a glass of water. I need a glass of water. I need a glass of water._

She opened her eyes to nothing. "No luck there either," she sighed.

"Out of curiosity, what were you trying to conjure?"

"A glass of water. I'm thirsty."

He eyed her pensively for several seconds, then leaned back in his chair. "Try _wishing_ for that."

"Alright…" she replied, skeptical.

"With _sincerity_ , Sarah. Wish for the water you need."

She glanced at him curiously, but nodded tightly when she saw what looked like confidence in his eyes. It was a look he'd lacked during her prior attempts.

_I wish I had a glass of water._

She didn't have to look farther than his wide grin to realize the glass had appeared.

" _Finally,"_ she exclaimed, drinking a large sip before grinning back. "You've figured it out."

"Perhaps. We're on the right track, at least. It would appear wishing for things at random is insufficient. I think your need must be sincere."

She considered her past attempts. His assumption made some sense. "That may explain why the flashlight appeared when the hallways were dark, but not when I just wanted to show you in your office. I certainly needed clothes." She furrowed her brow. "Not sure about the translation, though. Or Time Above."

"It's worth testing further, I think. Think of something you sincerely want at this moment and another thing you do not. Wish it aloud." He waved her on.

"I _am_ hungry," she offered. "Alright, I wish for a bowl of brussels sprouts and a lemon poppyseed muffin."

A single item appeared on the desk.

"We're _definitely_ on the right track," she grinned, taking a bite of her muffin. "I hate brussels sprouts."

"It would appear so." He twisted his wrist again to form a crystal, placing it on the desk between them. A familiar scene of still-life waited inside. "Focus on that need. Try to reverse the Above again."

She finished her muffin and quickly wiped the crumbs off her shirt. "Got it." Sarah picked up the crystal and squinted at the sight inside, thinking hard about what she wanted to happen.

_I wish Time Above would restart._

She looked up blankly when nothing changed, shaking her head with a frown.

"Try it aloud," he urged.

"I wish Time Above would restart," and then, for good measure, "right now."

Nothing in the crystal so much as twitched.

"We're clearly missing something," he said, resting a hand under his chin. "Something distinct about this wish."

"Unless this isn't something I can wish for. You couldn't," she pointed out. "And you weren't even sure I could when you suggested I try. Maybe it'll just eventually reverse itself?"

"That's not something I'd gamble on." Especially given what he'd told the Council and what he knew they wanted to try. "We've tampered with old magic; something must be done to undo the damage."

"Then we need to re-group. Draw up a list of new ideas, look at it from a different angle," she shrugged, "I don't know. Can we call in reinforcements?"

He scoffed. " _You_ were the reinforcements, Sarah. No one else was involved."

"What about Hoggle? He was right with me in that tunnel when you stole my time. Maybe he can help."

"I find that doubtful," he frowned.

"I think he knows more than you give him credit for. When I called him about the shifts, he'd acted pretty uneasy."

"That's his general disposition, Sarah," he drawled. "I've never seen him act otherwise."

"You frighten him," she explained, rolling her eyes. "He told me as much. Just don't threaten him and he should be fine." She watched as something like incomprehension flashed across his face. "On second thought, don't say anything at all. I'll do the talking." She couldn't trust him not to say something to set Hoggle on edge. It was in his nature.

Jareth's eyes narrowed at her slight, but he pressed forward. "Since you are set on speaking to the coward, shall I just bring him here now?" He didn't wait for her response to bring a crystal to his fingers.

"Uh, no. I think being dragged to your castle will only spook him. Can we go to him?"

The crystal was crushed between fingertips as he stood to meet her by her chair. "Very well. Know I think this an immense waste of time."

"Noted, but I don't see you offering any other ideas."

Sarah swore he clenched her arm tighter than before, but she fell just the same.


	11. Chapter 11

A heavy crunching of leaves greeted Sarah when she stopped falling. She pulled her arm away when he didn't immediately let go. Her threat of his father apparently had done nothing to discourage him from touching her more than necessary. She looked around, still rubbing furiously at shivers that danced on the spot he'd claimed.

They appeared to be on the edge of a woods. Hopefully, not the woods the fireys called home. She was not in the mood to fight off being dismembered. Again.

In spite of the crunching under her feet, the trees still obstructed her view of the sky, shadowing the floor in darkness.

"Where are we?"

"The Shallow Woods," he replied, grimacing. "The dwarves gravitate towards the shadows. I could not say why. It is an exceedingly dreary place far from my castle."

She snorted. "I suspect that's exactly why," she murmured before turning to him. "Hoggle is here?"

"He should be, but it's been some time since he was in my employ." He directed a pointed eyebrow at her. "Four of your years, in fact."

"Couldn't stand to employ someone who'd helped me beat you?" She grinned, finding his insecurity strangely human.

He narrowed his eyes, but said nothing to correct her. He turned sharply into the woods instead.

Shortly thereafter, they came upon an open grove where the trees had dared not to grow. Sarah counted seven stone-fronted structures, each no taller than six feet. A small fire burned in the grove's center.

"Which one is his?"

"How should I know," he replied, picking at his gloves. "This is your excursion."

A growl tickled the back of Sarah's throat, but she held her tongue. Jareth's grudge against Hoggle was not something she could dispel in that moment. He had some right to be irritated, she supposed. She wouldn't appreciate it if her confidants plotted against her. Still, she thought it silly that he dwelled on his _one_ defeat. But ultimately, it was best not to say anything that might cause him to sabotage her conversation with Hoggle.

Intentionally, or not.

"Fine. You go knock on those doors," she pointed to the three houses on her left. "I'll try these four." If he was going to be obstinate, she had no problem taking charge. She preferred it actually. She had to keep her upper-hand lest he thought her unguarded enough to try something. There was no washroom door to hide behind out here.

Sarah was pleased to see him snap his eyes to her, startled. She doubted anyone besides his father or the Council had ever tried to order him around. It felt good to knock his massive ego down a few pegs.

The door to the house to her direct right was open a crack and Sarah tapped on it gently. "Hello? Hoggle?"

"No Hoggle here," a deep voice grumbled back. The door was slammed.

Sarah jumped back, thankful she hadn't kept her hand by the doorframe. She remembered Hoggle as being a bit gruff when she'd first met him. She figured it to be dwarven thing. Maybe they didn't get a lot of visitors.

She heard a shriek across the grove and the sound of another door slamming shut. She arched her neck to see Jareth standing, arms crossed and impatient, in front of one of his assigned houses. At her confused stare, he pointed a single gloved finger at its door.

_Oh, dear._ She had really been hoping to not terrify Hoggle. He apparently hadn't lost his fear of Jareth despite his severance from gardening duties. She jogged over quickly.

"Hoggle? It's Sarah. Can we talk?"

"S-Sarah?" he croaked, cracking the door open to squint at her. He quickly threw the door open when she grinned apologetically. "What d'ya doing here?" His eyes glanced back at the king but quickly trained back on Sarah. "And with h-h-him?" The question tumbled awkwardly out of his mouth.

"Long story. You remember those shifts I told you about? Well, they stopped. Everything stopped. We wondered if you could help."

He turned a bit green at the last. " _We_?"

"Well," she turned back to see Jareth glaring at the dwarf, " _I_ did, at least. Can we talk? He'll wait outside."

Sarah heard Jareth scoff behind her, but he didn't argue. Hoggle swallowed deeply before he nodded, but stood aside to let her enter. It was tight, but she fit when she crouched.

Hoggle sat at a table in the corner, looking nervously out the door. "Tell me you didn't go and wish yourself away to _him,_ " he whispered, nodding his head at the king outside.

She chuckled. "Don't worry, I've…" she trailed off, actually not sure what to tell him. Jareth had seemed pretty concerned about someone hearing about her magic in the confines of his _castle_ ; they were out in the open here. She hadn't thought to ask him what she could tell Hoggle, but anything but the truth would be useless. She frowned. "Hang on a sec," she stood, shuffling back towards the door.

" _Jareth,"_ she hissed, trying to get his attention. He had conjured himself a chair and was lounging in it, staring at the pair of crystals he juggled in one hand.

"Yes _dear_ ," he drawled, not looking up.

She scowled. That was precisely the story she didn't want to tell Hoggle. "I need to explain to him what's going on. There's no way he'll be able to help otherwise." She knew better than to phase it as a question and give him an easy out. She crossed her arms to make her point.

"I doubt I could stop you from doing otherwise," he scoffed, glancing up at her before shaking his head slowly. He flicked his wrist when she didn't return inside. "Say what you must."

Sarah slid back into one of Hoggle's wooden chairs. "Sorry about that. Jareth has me juggling a couple stories at the moment," she explained, rolling her eyes. "I'm really only here to fix the shifts. Jareth brought me here because he _thought_ I could fix them, at least. We're having some trouble."

His face twitched oddly. "You been calling him by his name."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "I didn't wish a child away. I'm not going to cower and call him 'Goblin King' all day long." She waved her hand dismissively. "He seems fine with it."

"He would be," he muttered, eying the king out the door again. He turned back to Sarah. "Jus' be careful, Sarah. He's nothin' but trouble."

"Believe me, I know," she with a grimace. She was glad she didn't have to explain the _other_ trouble he'd wrought upon her. The ruse would have been sure to give him palpitations.

"Which brings me to why I'm here. The shifts have stopped, but now everything in my world is frozen. All thanks to Jareth breaking the _one_ rule about runners." She rolled her eyes and leaned forward. "I think you knew he'd done something wrong when you visited me. That he caused it?"

"I..uhh…I wondered is all. I've heard things..."

"What sort of things?"

"Old things. Stories and warnings," he shrugged, waving a hand. "Most make no sense."

"Warnings about not changing the thirteen hours?" She guessed.

He flinched. "Sort a'…"

"Well, did you hear anything about what to do if someone _did_ change the hours? A way to reverse what that caused?"

He shook his head. "Sorry. Woulda told'ya when ya called if I had."

She sighed, rubbing at her eyes. It had been worth checking. "Jareth seems pretty sure that fixing it somehow involves me. My old magic, specifically."

"Your _what_?" He twisted a finger in his ear to try and clear out the wax.

Sarah smiled wanly. "You heard right. Apparently, one of the other consequences of messing with that rule was to gift me with the power to wish for things. Things besides the goblins." She sighed again. "Jareth thought my wish magic was tied to reversing what he'd done, but I've had no luck wishing my world back to normal. I can wish for _other_ things I need, so we're not sure what we're missing. I wondered if you were somehow involved since you were with me when he did it." She paused, fixing him a hopeful look. "I don't suppose you can wish for things now too?"

His forehead wrinkled. "Don' know. Haven't tried."

"We think it works with me when I wish for something I need. Can you give it a shot?"

"Jus'…wish for somethin'?"

"Something you need right now." She gave him a half-smile. "It works for me in my head if you'd rather keep it quiet."

"Err. Alright…" He squeezed his eyes tight for several seconds, then slowly opened one a crack before shaking his head and grimacing. "Didn't work."

Sarah groaned. That had been her last idea. "You're sure?"

He nodded again, shaking his head towards the door. "He's still here."

Despite the failure, Sarah couldn't help but laugh. She should have known he'd wish for Jareth to leave. She leaned over and patted him on the shoulder before standing. "Thanks for trying. If you hear or think of something that might help, swing by the castle. I'll be there until we fix it."

The sickly shade of green returned, but he nodded.

"It was good to see you, Hoggle," she smiled, giving him a hug.

"Oh, jus' be careful, Sarah," he shrugged her off and kicked at his floor. "You know I'm no match for _him_ ," he shuddered, "but if you need me…"

"…I'll call," she finished, patting him on the shoulder again. "Thanks."

She clicked the door closed on her way out, sighing. Hoggle could be scratched off her list of possible solutions. Unfortunately, that didn't leave them with much of anything.

Jareth was still twirling crystals when Sarah stopped in front of him. He glanced up at her scowl when she cleared her throat.

"I assume the dwarf knew nothing. As I told you."

She crossed her arms. "He knew you'd caused the problem. He didn't know how to fix it, unfortunately. If he thinks of something, he'll come to the castle."

Jareth grimaced. He had enough unwanted guests to ward off already; he didn't need the dwarf on his list. In a whish of fingers, he vanished the crystals he'd been spinning and rested his head on a propped elbow. "I've been thinking about what to try next. I don't think you'll like either of the things I've come up with."

"Wonderful," she said with a shake of her head, anything but surprised. "What do you want me to do now?"

He stood, vanishing his chair and rubbing at his eyes. "I need you to make another wish. I need to go Above."

Sarah frowned, immediately suspicious. He had been very adamant on not taking her home until the issue was fixed. "I thought you said you couldn't risk taking me home?"

"I didn't say I would be taking _you_ Above. I still will not risk that. I don't particularly think I should go either, but I expect you'll prefer this plan to the second." He quirked his lips and something strange flashed in his eyes. "The second requires a bit more than a wish from you."

She shifted, suddenly uneasy. Nothing good ever came from that look. She focused on his first plan. "What do you need from my world? It's still frozen."

"Not a what. A who," he offered simply, knowing he need not say more.

"A _who_? What–" she stopped, realizing who he meant. "No. _Absolutely_ not. You promised that Toby wouldn't be harmed."

"I have no intention of harming him. You were the one who suggested we seek out someone else who'd been involved with your run. You may have just picked the wrong someone."

She was silent for several seconds. It wasn't a _bad_ idea, per se. She just didn't like it. After she'd wished Toby away, she promised herself she'd never do anything else to put him in harm's way. He thought wishing away Toby – again - was the idea she'd _prefer_? He knew she didn't want Toby involved.

"What's your other idea?" She asked cautiously.

The smirk returned. "I'd rather not do it out here in the woods."

Her eyebrows shot up. " _Excuse_ me?" His smirk brought to mind several things she'd never do in the woods; _none_ of them good ideas. Especially when they involved Jareth.

His grin only widened. "Too many witnesses out here. Someone might hear us."

_What. The. Actual. Fuck? How did that have anything to do with reversing things at home?_

She narrowed her eyes. "I made it _very_ clear this morning that last night changed nothing between us. Keep it in your pants."

He had the audacity to flash his pointed canines then. "Oh, _Sarah_. I knew it'd been on your mind…" he trailed off, eyes blazing with mirth. "But that's not quite what I'd come up with."

"It _hasn't_ been on my mind," she insisted. "You _know_ what that sounded like."

A raised eyebrow signaled his disbelief.

_Damn it. He'd stolen back the upper-hand. That's what I get for ordering him around._

" _What's the second plan_ ," she ground out.

He extended his arm. "I was not lying when I said I'd rather not do it here. We should discuss it in my throne room."

_His throne room? Why would he need to discuss it there?_

Curious, she grabbed hold tight and let him take them back.

* * *

The throne room was empty when they appeared. Jareth immediately moved to lounge on his throne, leaving Sarah to stand before him. He was back in his element. Full Goblin King mode. She crossed her arms, suddenly wary of what twisted idea he'd thought up.

"What plan could you possibly need to explain here?"

He had conjured a riding crop from nowhere and set about tapping it against his outstretched leg. His other arm moved to the curved armrest, propping his head with a tilt and staring at Sarah with an uncomfortable intensity. Sarah shifted, bringing her arms tighter.

"Your gifting of old magic is tied to the fabric of the Labyrinth, but that gifting only occurred because I, as Goblin King, reordered time. Without my magic, you would not have your gift and the Above would not be frozen." He paused, making sure she understood the last. "You have been trying to reverse the Above with only part of the magic that caused the problem: the old magic. I've tried to do the same with the other part: my magic as Goblin King and Keeper of the Labyrinth. But neither alone may be enough."

She frowned. His soliloquy made it sound like he was giving up, not that he had a plan. "I'm not hearing a plan there."

The tapping stopped, but his stare didn't falter. "I wonder if the Above can only be reversed by someone wielding _both_ magics."

"I still don't understand what you're getting at," she said, shifting on her feet again. "I tried your method of magic earlier today. Only wishing worked for me."

"You didn't try what I'm referring to. I do not know a way to grant myself access to the old magic, but there is a way to extend my magic as Goblin King to you."

She did a quick-double take. There was no way she'd heard that right. "Excuse me? Extend _what_ magic?"

He pursed his lips, considering her quietly for several seconds before trying again. "You can wish for other things you need, but there is something still preventing you from repairing the Above. I wonder if that something is that you do not have access to all the magic that instigated your gift."

She shook her head quickly. She was even more confused now. "You're making no sense. I can wish for things. You've seen me do it. Clearly, I have access to the magic."

"Perhaps not the _right_ access. You gift was only possible because I, as Goblin King, made it so. I wonder if using that gift to reverse what came from my action requires you to be in a similar position."

Sarah shot to attention. She could think of only one way to be in a similar position to the Goblin King, but he _had_ to be messing with her as he had in the woods; a twisted recompense for admitting her attraction and ordering him about.

"You can't be serious."

"You have thus far been unable to wish the Above back to normal with your old magic. I think we can both agree you are missing something. It was my magic as Goblin King that created the problem. It does not seem preposterous that it would be needed to solve it." He stood, twisting his wrist to form another crystal while walking down the dais towards her.

"Besides taking the boy, I do not know what else to try. If you have something better, by all means let me know. The Council will only wait so long before taking action." He held the crystal out towards her and it melted away to form a familiar piece of worked metal. Smaller, but unmistakable.

Good lord, he _was_ serious. He was actually suggesting she become Goblin Queen. Like it was just another book to read or wish to try, offered only because he had run out of ideas. Strictly business.

A last resort.

She flinched, snapping her eyes from the amulet back to his. "What does the Council want to try?"

A muscle in his face twitched. "Something drastic. I will not allow it to come to that."

"Jesus, Jareth. And _this_ isn't drastic? How is me becoming Queen the better option?"

"Because they speculate the problem is _you_ ," he answered, before he could catch himself.

It hung in the air for several long moments before understanding flashed in Sarah eyes and her hands curled into fists at her side. "They want me dead and you took me to _dinner_ with them?"

"Sarah-"

" _Don't_ ," she snapped, hand raised to block him from stepping closer. "I don't want to hear it."

Jareth stood frozen as she stormed out of the throne room, the clicking of her boots pounding like nails in his head. It was only when the echoing faded away that he realized she'd just _walked_ out on him. In his own throne room, at that. And while he was trying to come up with a plan to keep her safe.

Did she think ignoring him was going to solve the problem? That the Council would just go away? He knew she was stubborn, but she _needed_ to listen to him.

He no longer heard her footsteps, but there was only one place she would have gone. With a growl, he strode after her, not in any state to attempt transportation.

Her door was shut when he arrived, but he wasted no time with knocking, throwing open the door with another growl.

"Dammit Sarah, you need to _listen_ to me."

She was seated on the front edge of her bed, in the middle of pulling off her second boot. At his command, her eyes shot to his and she flung the shoe. Her eyes narrowed when he caught it neatly.

" _Get out."_

He threw it against the wall, marching towards her. "Not until you _listen_. I don't care if you curse me into oblivion afterwards, but you need to listen first."

"I've heard everything I need to. You _knew_ your Council wanted to get rid of me and you dragged me down here anyway. Hell, you delivered me right to their _doorstep_ , wrapped up in silks like some twisted Christmas present."

"If that's what you think, you haven't understood a word I've said," he hissed low, now inches from her. Close enough to see her eyes narrow again, to hear her try and catch her breath from screaming at him, to feel the anger radiating with every breath. It did nothing to deter him.

"Do you really think the Council would have just left you alone? I'm not the only fey with the power to travel Above. If I hadn't intervened, I suspect they'd have already taken you. They are very good at getting what they want."

"So, what? You brought me here to piss them off? Keep me from them to get back at them for making you Goblin King?"

He growled again and grabbed her hand, dragging it in front of her face so he made sure she saw the outline of his pendant spark vibrantly. "I am trying to protect you," he grit out.

She watched it fade just as quickly before she snapped her hand away, rubbing at the shock that settled in her skin with a scowl. "Why even _bother_."

It was something about the way she'd said it that made him do it. Only an instinctual response that buried rational thought could have caused him to grab her chin and tilt her face upwards. Nothing else could have caused him to press his lips to hers and show her _exactly_ why he bothered.

Sarah barely had the chance to process that he'd grabbed her face before she felt his lips on hers, hardly had time to realize how fiercely those lips burned into her own before his other hand moved to her neck, grabbing desperately at a lock of hair and pulling her closer, something guttural caught in the back of his throat.

She hardly knew what she was doing when she began kissing him back, moving her own hand to tangle up in his corn-silk hair, holding on to him while falling. Something like a sigh slipped through her lips, encouraging him to continue. Only then did he part his lips slightly, coaxing her own to part with a dance of his tongue.

She was lost and drowning; only vaguely aware that she had fallen back on the bed, the hand in his hair trying to force him closer. Vaguely aware that it was _Jareth_ that was kissing her and how she'd told herself she couldn't let herself get distracted. Vaguely aware as she felt the burn somewhere deep inside that she was still very attracted to him, and the heat of his body made it appear he felt the same.

Extremely aware that she'd never been kissed like this, like she was something to be savored. Something to be _devoured_.

It was only when she needed air that she pulled away, trying to catch her breath while looking up at his dark eyes. She knew hers were equally clouded but she kept them focused on his; defiant and unflinching.

He pressed his forehead against hers quickly before sighing once and pulling himself from her to stand at the foot of the bed.

"You may destroy me, Sarah, but _that_ is why I bother."

And before Sarah had the chance to respond, he was gone.


	12. Chapter 12

For the second straight morning, Sarah found herself staring numbly at the ceiling long after she awoke. She wasn't actually certain she'd fallen asleep the prior night. Not a deep sleep, anyway.

After Jareth had vanished from her room, she had spent several hours trying to comprehend what had just happened. Tried to piece together what his actions and parting words had meant.

He knew she found him attractive, so there was always the possibility he was just taking advantage of her admission; a power-play to keep his upper-hand. He could have been testing her limits to see if he really could get her to give in if he plied her with more than a neck massage. But something about all that seemed off.

There was also the likely possibility that it was just lust. Despite being fey, he was a male after all, and he had been spending an enormous amount of time around her. The Council had spoken about his past conquests, but she'd found no sign that he was in any current relationship. And she'd seen no one in his castle besides the goblins and the one visit from his half-brother. She knew she wasn't unattractive. If you serve palatable food to a starving man, he was going to eat it. Jareth might have been tempted by any woman in her situation.

After that, her thoughts became more muddled. It seemed incomprehensible that he actually felt something more for her. Something that made him lose his careful restraint and easy cadence. Something that pushed him to kiss her when she questioned his intentions.

Those thoughts had kept her up for hours.

The fact that just before he'd kissed her, he'd proposed she become Goblin Queen made the situation all the more confusing. He had made it seem as though it was just another plan to try, but she couldn't imagine someone just proposing marriage – and a Kingdom – on a whim. She wouldn't. It was too…much. And he'd known her for all of 10 hours and a few days. Again, it was incomprehensible.

Sarah groaned and pulled the pillow over her head. The last thing she needed was more complications. Now that she knew the Council was just itching to get rid of her, speculating that _she_ was causing the shifts, she had absolutely no time to spare on dalliances. No matter if the other half of that dalliance might feel something for her.

She'd just have to stuff _whatever_ last night was deep into a box and forget about it. She didn't know how to address it with him anyway. Plus, given how suddenly he'd left last night, she doubted he'd explain himself further. He'd said and done what he thought necessary. Any direct questions on her part were sure to get nowhere.

Despite all that, Jareth was right. They needed to try _something_. And while she still didn't like it, bringing Toby here sounded like the simpler of his two plans. She'd just have to come up with something less…drastic if it didn't work. There was always the hope that Hoggle would bring her a miracle.

He wasn't behind his desk when she finally made her way to his office. Instead, she found him standing by the windows, staring out onto the Labyrinth below. He didn't turn when she closed the door behind her.

"I think we should try bringing Toby here."

He turned then, his face smoothed into a casual expression. "Very well."

Sarah's eyes unconsciously drifted to his lips and she paused for a second, if only to see if he'd mention what happened last night, but he seemed to be comfortable with following her lead on ignoring it. Perhaps, like she, he had no idea what to say.

"What do you want me to wish for exactly?" She continued. "The same thing as before?"

"No, I'd like you to try something else. Something with less consequences. Neither of us wants you to go through the Labyrinth again to reclaim him." He moved his hand to his chin, once again in pensive mode. "You have been able to wish for things besides taking a child away; I'm hoping you can wish for me to borrow him, for lack of a better term. To bring him here temporarily."

"Alright." Her mind had been so muddled with what he'd done, she hadn't even thought about possibly having to run the Labyrinth again. She was glad she'd asked before just wishing for what she'd done before. At least he had been able to focus on those details.

She sincerely needed to try something, and this something was the best she had, so she felt confident wishing for Toby wouldn't fail. Even so, she fell back into the comfortable routine of closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. The right words were important.

"I wish the Goblin King would bring Toby Williams temporarily to the Underground," she spoke clearly, not opening her eyes until she'd finished. He was gone when she did, so she assumed what she said had worked.

She didn't expect it to take very long. Jareth had no bargain to make, and Toby would have been frozen in bed given the hour that Time stopped. She crossed her arms and waited.

On cue, something shifted in the air and she watched as Jareth materialized with a bundle in his arms, wrapped up in a dinosaur bedspread she recognized well. He shook his head towards the chairs by the windows. "Move your books."

She ran over to clear room for him to place Toby down. She couldn't be positive from her angle, but her brother still seemed completely frozen; the bedspread wasn't fluttering as if he was breathing. "Is he moving at all?"

"No," he sighed, settling him into one of the chairs. "Nothing in your world has shifted."

She leaned down to check anyway, brushing a lock of blonde hair back from his face with a shock. "He's freezing!"

"He has no circulation. I expect all your people are the same. It's why I kept him wrapped in the blanket."

She glanced his way quickly, surprised by his attentiveness. "Thanks," she replied softly, before turning back to Toby. It had probably been more difficult for him to cart Toby with the added layers, but he'd done it anyway.

He only nodded, looking down at Toby with a frown. "Returning him here doesn't seem to have changed his state."

"Maybe he needs to wait the three hours, like you thought with me?" She suggested, still brushing back Toby's hair. Looking back, it had seemed like a good idea if the issue was not staying in the Labyrinth for thirteen hours.

"Perhaps." He watched her attentions to Toby quietly, then came to a decision. "I'll give you some privacy."

"What?" She looked up, startled to see him walking towards the door. "There's no need to leave. This is your office, after all. I won't bother you." She gestured back to Toby. "I'd just rather not leave him alone until we know if he's going to wake up. He'll be freaked out if he does and doesn't know where he is."

He turned, searching her face for a moment before nodding again and giving her a thin smile. "I hadn't been anxious to face the morning revelry in my throne room."

She snorted. "I don't blame you. I'd hide in here too." She gave Toby's hair one last ruffle, then stood. Three hours was a long time to do nothing but wait. Jareth hadn't given her any additional books to read and she didn't think she could sleep, but she hated silence. And her mind was sure to wander into dangerous keep-it-stuffed-in-the-box territory if she didn't distract herself. Sarah eyed the gameboard speculatively. Chess was as good a distraction as any.

"Is it just for show or do you play?"

"Pardon?"

"The chess board," she gestured over his shoulder. "Unless you have work to do."

"There's always work to do," he waved a hand dismissively. "A Kingdom doesn't run itself." But then, he grinned and the glint in his eyes returned. "But I don't expect a chess match against you to take very long."

She knew he was goading her, but she could give as well as she got. His sudden kiss may have muddled her thoughts, but far more would be needed to kill her competitive spirit. "Then we're in agreement. You'll have plenty of time to run your Kingdom after I beat you."

"That confident, are you?" He raised an eyebrow as he slid into one of the chairs at the board. He started setting up the board, lining up the black pieces nearest himself.

She shrugged, sitting in the chair opposite. She followed his lead and lined up her own. "I like my odds. I played a lot of chess in high school. I can't imagine you've gotten much competition from the goblins you've got around here."

Pointed canines flashed. "Care to make it interesting, then?"

Sarah eyed him carefully. It shouldn't have been a surprise that he'd want more than just the chess game. Of course, after last night, she was curious as to what he wanted from her, so she bit. "How so?"

"You have brought to my attention the possibility that the goblin army may be needed. As you've seen, I haven't had much success in getting them ready and organized. When I win, I'd like you to see to it," he finished, grinning.

That had been far from what she'd been expecting. " _If_ you win," she corrected, "you want me to train your army?" She gave him a look that suggested she thought he'd lost his mind. "I'm more likely to make them _worse._ "

"Perhaps, but it'd be worth it to watch you try. I'm not overly worried an attack is imminent."

She eyed him strangely and crossed her arms. "Even so, that seems like something that'd take time. We're a little busy at the moment," she nodded over at Toby. Surely, he hadn't already forgotten their conversation last night? About how they needed to find a solution – fast – or the Council would snatch her?

He was quiet for a moment, but then his expression turned intense. "Should bringing the boy here work, the Council will forget about you and you'll have time to spare. Should it not, and unless you've come up with another plan, the obligation would come with the position."

Sarah's stomach flipped. He definitely _hadn't_ forgotten about their conversation last night. He was still serious about his Plan B. Plan GQ, as it were.

She couldn't process that at the moment.

_Wake. Up. Toby. Please let this work._

She focused on his wager. "Fine. If you win, I'll give it a shot. I still think you're asking for trouble, but if you want to ruin your army, that's on you." She shook her head to clear the strange picture his ask made in her mind. "But if I win, I want you to apologize and make amends to Hoggle."

He narrowed his eyes. "What for? He should be apologizing to me for helping you."

"I didn't really give him much of a choice in the beginning," she explained, cracking a half-smile. "I took his jewel bag. After that, I think he got swept up in the adventure of it all. Certainly not a crime that you should hold over him for eternity." She artfully raised an eyebrow then, mirroring his tactic. She was pretty sure she knew how to use his ego to her advantage. "But since you seemed so confident in your chess skills to ask for a bet, I wouldn't think you'd care what I asked for."

She knew she had him when his eyes widened slightly. He'd likely try and win back the upper-hand later, but she'd take the present victory. Hoggle deserved to have Jareth off his back.

"Very well. You have my word."

She grinned. "Deal." He'd chosen the black pieces, so she played first, moving one of her middle pawns up one.

"Cautious start," he commented mildly.

"Strategic. You can't win everything by just charging in." She saw him raise an eyebrow and knew what he meant. "Castle storming not included."

He snorted, but moved one of his own pawns up one.

To Sarah's chagrin, it soon became clear he'd been practicing against someone other than the goblins. There was no way he would have been able to predict her attacks without seeing them before. A small pile of white pieces had built up alongside the gameboard. She'd been able to knock off several of his own, including one of his rooks, but far less than she'd hoped for in comparison.

He made a move that put both her queen and her last bishop in jeopardy and leaned back with a grin.

She chewed on her lip, thinking. The bishop was her usual ace in forcing a checkmate, but the queen was far too valuable to sacrifice. "I'm getting the sense you've had more practice than I thought," she murmured.

"A few hundred years more than you, certainly," he agreed, the glint in his eyes flashing.

Sarah made an indistinguishable sound at the back of her throat. A few years of chess club was a poor match for hundreds of years of practice. No wonder he'd been so quick to challenge her to a bet. She couldn't believe she hadn't even considered that advantage. She went to move her queen, hovering her hand over the crown, when the door behind her slammed open.

" _King_!" A familiar voice squeaked with urgency.

Sarah spun in her seat to see Skagg, breathing heavy and eye-patch pushed aside. She noted with some amusement that he was wearing one of her polka-dotted socks on an ear.

"This better be important," Jareth growled.

Sarah didn't need to turn to look at him to know he was irritated. She was somewhat glad for the interruption. The game hadn't been going her way. Any distraction sent towards Jareth could only help her chances.

"King _here._ " Skagg wrung his hands together nervously.

Sarah's brow furrowed but Jareth seemed to understand what that meant, given he pushed his chair back so hard she heard it and several chess pieces topple over.

"Did he say what he wanted?" He questioned lowly.

The hand wringing intensified and his eyes jumped to Sarah. "Somethin' 'bout the Above. He talked about Lady."

The blood drained from Sarah's face. Not a good distraction, at all. If it was who she thought it was, he had given them far less time than she'd expected to fix the problem. She glanced sharply at Toby, but she didn't see him so much as twitch. She turned back to Jareth, eyes wide.

"Stay with the boy. It hasn't been three hours. I'll try and buy us more time."

He moved around the board quickly before pausing several feet past Sarah and turning back with an intense expression and a twist of his wrist. "I'm leaving this here in case I can't. If it dissolves, _put it on_. Wish immediately." He placed the crystal in the center of the board. Sarah didn't have to ask what it held.

The door slammed again and Sarah found herself alone, staring vacantly at the crystal on the board, now regretting – _desperately_ \- not asking him any questions about what becoming Goblin Queen entailed. The title alone buried her calm under a pile of bricks. The speculation therein was a suffocating storm.

She knew _nothing_. Next to nothing if she was generous with herself, given his one comment on the goblin army. Not nearly enough to leap into a Queendom. The books had not touched the subject, leaving her imagination to run wild. Was it something she could slide into temporarily, then abdicate and return Above when the problem was fixed? If so, why hadn't Jareth abdicated? He'd made it clear he was forced into it. Could she even _return_ home, once she took it? He'd seemed to think it would give her access to new magic – _his_ magic. Did that mean she'd become like him?

What would he even _expect_ from her _?_ He couldn't ask her to do this without telling her. Especially not after how he'd reacted in her room last night.

_Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT._

Her gaze drilled into the crystal, wishing with all her might that it didn't turn. She was sure self-preservation would win out if she had to make the choice, despite not knowing the full extent of the alternative. Jareth was far better than death.

* * *

Jareth strode into his throne room with a scowl on his face at the sight of his father on his throne.

"Considering a new title?" He said crisply, unable to hold his frustration back.

The High King looked down at him with pursed lips. "You may need to if you don't finish your enchantments soon. The Council is getting impatient. There is no reasoning with them."

Jareth pursed his own in return. This soon after they'd dined, he doubted his father had even tried. "It's barely been two days since we spoke. I need more time. What they want to try will only worsen the problem."

"If they are correct, you won't have any other long nights of casting to need her for. And if not, you can find another whore. I'll grant you that she's a pretty thing, but humans are replaceable."

Jareth bit down on his tongue to keep himself from arguing the point. That was a line he couldn't cross, even if the High King was his father. And it would only make him more suspicious.

"I still need more time. I am close," Jareth grit out.

The High King leaned forward, his doubt etched in thick lines. "You've made that clear, but I have yet to see any change from your efforts. Nor have you explained what spells you are using."

Jareth kept his expression neutral, having expected the not-questions. "It's an enchantment from the old texts. The old magic can only be mended with something equally complex. It will not be much longer."

The High King paused, tilting his head in a way reminiscent of Jareth's own searching inquires, but then rose from the throne. "Then for your sake, I hope you don't need more than two days. The Council refuses to wait longer than that." He stopped in front of Jareth. "I don't care that she wished herself to you. I've given them permission to take her when Aries reaches its apex."

Jareth couldn't stop his eyes from widening, startled by the familiar mention. "What?"

The High King waved a hand dismissively. "Some primitive human method of time-telling. They seemed concerned by it."

Jareth could think of only one reason the Council would be concerned with something involving Aries; they'd gotten antsy enough to read the old texts. The same ones that had made Sarah wonder about Aries and war and weapons.

He needed another look at that book. _Now._

"It will be solved by then. Their interference is unnecessary," he said mildly, forcing confidence back into his tone.

The High King pursed his lips again, but said nothing to suggest he thought otherwise, moving instead towards the door. Jareth nodded his head and with a flash of light, the High King disappeared.

* * *

Sarah's eyes were watering from the intensity with which she'd been staring at the crystal when the door slammed back open. She blinked once, then tracked Jareth as he strode quickly over to the windows.

"Is he gone?" She asked hesitantly.

"For now," he said, picking up the book on the Labyrinth and flipping through it. "The Council has given us two days."

"Two days?" Better than nothing, but still scant. She needed time to think of other options.

He flicked his eyes up. "Or as the Council demanded, until Aries reaches its apex."

" _What_?" She jumped from her chair and moved towards him, pointing. "There was something about Aries in that book."

"I recall. I'm looking for it."

"Give it to me," she grabbed for it. "It was near the back." She found it quickly and shoved the book between them.

_When Aries calls its match, the lines of war will be drawn and broken._

_A challenge once to be won, but the match not to be conquered._

_When Aries reaches the apex of Its rule, what comes past shall remain._

_A battle fought, only leading to surrender._

_When Aries calls its weapon, it will answer to the true._

_The time to come when truth accepted, the victory already won._

"When Aries reaches the apex of Its rule, what comes past shall remain'," Jareth read slowly, looking up. "The Council must believe that this is referencing the problem. That after this point, this 'apex', the Above cannot be undone and the frozen status 'will remain.'"

Sarah looked at the limerick again, skeptical. "I still don't see anything in here about wishes or the required thirteen hours. Why would they think a poem about war and weapons has anything to with it?"

He frowned. He agreed the connection seemed dubious. "I do not know. It's possible, like us, they have found nothing else in the texts and are guessing." He thumbed quickly through the lines of names that followed. "This is the last entry in the section on the wished away."

Jareth re-read the limerick again. "I must admit, I am unfamiliar with this method of time-telling. My father mentioned it was something your people concocted?"

"It has something to do with constellations and their position in the sky. The apex is probably when its most visible?" She spoke it almost to herself and grimaced, trying to remember what she'd learned from past science classes. "I think Aries is also a constellation, but I'm not an expert on astrology or astronomy. I took bio as my college science credit." Sarah drew her finger down the poem, sighing. The limerick was just as confusing with the changed subject meaning. "But if the Aries this refers to is the constellation, and not the God of War, the references to war and weapons make even less sense. Stars don't go to battle."

"Either way, if the Council has decided this message is relevant, we should attempt to decipher what the rest of it means as soon as possible. It may help predict their other moves. There's much more here than the line about the apex."

Sarah had several other things she'd rather figure out as soon as possible, such as a back-up plan to Jareth's Plan GQ if Toby didn't wake. At the very least, she needed to talk to him about it. The not-knowing was now more unbearable than knowing if it was the only survival plan.

She was mere inches from Toby and she could tell he hadn't budged. She wasn't sure what else to try except waiting the full three hours which, as she grimaced at the clock in the room, were almost up. She'd know in less than an hour. But the comfort of the chess distraction had been shattered along with the position of the pieces on the board.

She needed to know what he was asking of her.

Sarah cleared her throat to bring his attention up from the book. "We need to talk first. About your plan B. I need to know what I'd be getting into."

She saw him exhale slowly through his nose before he closed the book and realized she hadn't phrased her question most delicately. Hopefully, he'd understand her position and hadn't taken it the wrong way.

But his look was piercing. "What do you want to know?"


	13. Chapter 13

Sarah wanted to know many things, starting with whether taking the throne was a permanent position, but the severe look on his face swept those questions momentarily aside.

"I don't know why you find me having concerns so appalling. I don't know how the fey do it, but where I come from, people _talk_ about their future before just proposing marriage. Not to mention, people don't just randomly propose to near strangers."

"You are hardly a stranger," he remarked. "And this is not a typical situation."

_No shit this isn't typical._ "That aside, I wouldn't even consider a week enough time to move-in with a boyfriend, let alone to get married to one. You aren't even from my world and you offered me a _throne_. Surely you understand why I have questions? Why I have concerns?"

"I've already asked what you wanted to know," he said, picking at his gloves instead of looking at her face. "But I don't expect you'll feel any better once you have the answers."

Sarah's stomach dropped, but she didn't falter. It was still better to know than to not know. "If I become Goblin Queen," she began, the title twisting awkwardly on her tongue, "can I abdicate once the problem is resolved? Can I go home?"

He regarded her carefully for several seconds. There were numerous ways to start to answer her questions, but they all led to the same outcome. "The position can be abdicated, but I wouldn't recommend it."

"Why not?" Her eyes narrowed minutely, flashing with something wild.

Jareth grimaced, realizing the time had come to correct her earlier misconception. He was actually surprised she hadn't asked him any questions about it yet. But she had been acutely focused on fooling the Council and fixing the Above. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "You asked me several days ago about the wished away. The ones who remained here."

"How does that have anything to do with being Goblin Queen?"

"It does only because I believe you misunderstood what happens to the children who remain Underground," he started, charging through the confusion on Sarah's face. "You seemed concerned about the fey parents. I expect you think the children age and die long before them."

"They don't?" She whispered, understanding somewhat where he was heading.

"No. There comes a time when a wished away remains long enough Underground that they lose the part of them that makes them mortal. I do not know why."

"But I wasn't wished away. I'm here for a completely different reason."

"It doesn't seem to have mattered."

All the air left Sarah's lungs in a whoosh and she tried several times to ask him what he meant, but all she could muster were gasping breaths and wide eyes. She had heard his use of the past tense loud and clear.

"I had expected you to ask me sooner, but you may have been too preoccupied to notice. The changes were gradual and too minuscule. It is more pronounced in children, but you should still see the difference." He produced a small mirror from nowhere and offered it to her without another word.

Sarah took it, still unable to form a coherent response, and brought it inches from her face. She didn't know what she was meant to have noticed. Something that indicated she was not mortal? Not _human?_ She touched the tips of her ears, but they lacked the distinctive point that Jareth's possessed. She could clearly see she had no sort of markings above her eyes, no strange tilt to her brows. But, as she brought it closer, she realized there was something brighter, something _richer_ about the green in her eyes and the sheen in her hair; something sharper about the angles of her face and the glow of pale skin. Minuscule differences, but differences all the same when regarded closely. She saw it now.

She found her voice and put down the mirror. "What does this mean? Does remaining Underground change me into something like you?"

He hesitated briefly. "Your situation is unique, but the children who remain Underground do not become fey. They remain human and are thus unable to do magic, but they lose their mortality."

"I can do magic."

"Yes."

She waited for him to elaborate, to say something that would dispel the impression the word left, but he kept his silent gaze on her. She ran his comment back again in the silence.

Her situation was unique. He didn't – _couldn't_ \- know what that meant. And he _kept_ her here without telling her what might happen. Her eyes narrowed, again furious with what he'd conveniently forgotten to tell her.

"You knew this might happen. That I would _change_ ," she hissed.

"It was a possibility," he conceded, grimacing. "But only if we failed to solve the Above quickly enough. I did not know how long it would take."

"How could you not _tell_ me that?" She threw the mirror to the floor and watched him flinch as the glass shattered. "You didn't even give me a choice."

His expression hardened. "There was no choice. Once the Above froze, you couldn't remain there. I've explained exactly why. Would you have preferred death?"

Sarah stilled at the thought and didn't reply. She knew he wasn't really asking. There was only one answer to that question.

The hardness softened with her silence. "Your only chance at escaping the Council rests on us solving the problem created here, and solving it in the next two days."

He still seemed concerned, but to Sarah it made no sense. "If you think I've lost my mortality, why are you even concerned about the Council?"

"Immortality does not mean invincibility. There are ways to kill the humans that stay. They are not that different from the ways to kill a fey. They would know what to do once they took you."

Sarah growled in frustration and fell back into the open chair, bringing up both hands to work at the headache quickly forming. There _had_ been a choice, but he wasn't all wrong in that it wasn't a real one. Not if he was certain the Council would have already taken her.

_This is a fucking nightmare._

"You didn't answer my other question," she said, still rubbing at her temples with closed eyes. "About why you wouldn't recommend abdicating." She shot him her own piercing stare. "Can I not go home now? Am I stuck here?"

His flinch was subtle, but his response was quick to cover. "You can return if you desire. I do not believe it will bring back what you lost, but you are welcome to try if the boy turns out to be the solution."

Sarah sensed another 'but', given he hadn't answered her actual question about abdicating. " _But…?"_

He frowned. "But if the solution is tied to my throne, I do not think you will want to. I will not be able to keep your position quiet and I cannot protect you if you are not here."

"Protect me from _what_? If what you're suggesting works, the Council would have gotten what they wanted. My world would be back to normal. They shouldn't care about me anymore."

"They would care about you for a different reason. The same one I first warned you about. I can hide your gifting of old magic, but not that which passes with my throne. It is not magic that can be returned. And despite your recent loss of mortality, many will still not accept it. You have heard what the fey think of your people."

Sarah shook her head. The contradiction didn't make any sense. "If I could abdicate, why couldn't I give back your magic? Isn't that something your future queen would need?"

"That's not how fey marriage works, Sarah."

_What?_

He turned away from her briefly, looking out onto the Labyrinth again, before canting his head back. "It would be your decision to make, but if it comes to that, I believe remaining Goblin Queen would keep most from trying to do something about it."

She realized he had just glided over his pronouncement. "Wait a minute. What do you mean that's not how fey marriage works? How does it work?"

It was clear to Sarah he didn't want to explain it. He'd turned back towards the window immediately after she'd asked. " _Jareth."_

"I cannot give another access to my magic. Access to my throne." He turned then, expression cool despite the severity of his words.

Sarah's eyebrows jumped to her hairline. She'd wanted to know and he'd told her, but the answer was incomprehensible. The keep-it-stuffed-in-the-box sort of incomprehensible. "You can't marry again. And you would give that up, just to try something you don't even know would _work_? Just to try and keep me from the Council?"

"Yes." He said it without hesitation.

Sarah snapped her mouth shut, her words snatched from her thoughts in an instant. Whatever she had been thinking about becoming Goblin Queen, she had not even imagined the fey could only choose one spouse. For an eternity. And he would give that up just because he didn't want the Council to snatch her over the shifts. Her eyes widened slightly. The shifts _he_ caused.

There was another reason for his wanting to protect her, for his offering the throne. Something she hadn't even considered this morning. She hadn't thought it possible, but it would explain how far he seemed willing to go to protect her.

He felt guilty.

He knew he'd put her in harm's way by breaking the rule and he was trying to make amends. It made much more sense than her earlier muddled thoughts. She had felt the same guilt after putting Toby in harm's way. She still felt it.

They needed to figure this out before Aries reached its apex. She couldn't ask him to do that.

She sighed, gesturing back for the book. "We should figure out what the Council thinks the poem means. Maybe it does have an answer on something else we can do."

The book was handed over slowly, an odd expression on his face. Almost as if he expected her to snap at him again. Sarah put it down on her lap, frowning. The situation was a fucking mess, but he couldn't help what the Underground did to humans. She knew it held strange magic; _old_ magic.

She knew firsthand how it gifted that magic.

Sarah held his gaze. "You should have told me about what happens to humans Underground. I don't appreciate being forced into something without knowing the consequences." She paused to make sure he understand that point. "That said, I would have made the same choice you did. I know Underground magic is complex and you don't control it all. This whole situation is a fucking mess, but I'm not going to waste the two days we have by blaming you or whining about it. We have work to do."

Sarah could see he was startled again, so she didn't wait for him to get his act together and respond before she opened the book back to the poem. She needed to figure out what this Aries business might mean. She re-read the first line.

_When Aries calls its match, the lines of war will be drawn and broken._

She looked up at him, hoping he'd snapped out of it. "I don't understand how it all fits. If not the God of War, this 'Aries' has to at least be something that can act. It mentions Aries calling both a match and a weapon. I just don't see how a constellation could do that."

"You mentioned you are not an expert in these sciences," he started, the odd expression now gone. "Is there something from your world that might help?"

"Maybe," she grimaced. "There are books that talk about constellations. I'm sure there's some that explain how they have been used to tell time. I just don't know which ones or where to find them. It's not a book I've read before."

"That might not matter. Would you know what to wish for?"

She considered it, then tilted her head. She had never tried to wish for something she hadn't seen before. "Vaguely. I don't know exactly what I'm looking for, but I can try."

"Just try _sincerely_ ," he offered. "If that is what your other wishes were tied to."

"Right." She closed her eyes as habit required and shoved the book on the Labyrinth to her side. She was looking for a book about astronomy and astrology, one that discussed how constellations were used to tell time. She needed one that specifically referenced Aries. What she _really_ needed was something that explained how Aries was used to tell time. It was the only other lead they had, assuming Toby didn't wake, and she needed to not guilt him into trying his plan B.

_I wish I had an explanation of how Aries has been used to tell time._

Sarah felt something heavy thud onto her lap, but she could tell without opening her eyes that it wasn't a book.

"Is that a clock?"

Sarah opened her eyes to the strangest piece of rounded metal she'd ever seen, covered in numerals and various other symbols and dials. The outer rim listed a progression of stylized Arabic numerals from one to twenty-four, but the run of Roman numerals directly inside its border didn't line up. And that didn't even include the smaller wheel of symbols within those dials. Something like a sun sat at the end of its small hand, calling reference to how she thought Aries was relevant.

If it was a clock, she had no idea how to read it.

"I don't know." She picked it up and turned it over, but there was no explanation but the piece itself. "I wished for an explanation on how Aries is used to tell time and I got this."

"I've never seen a clock with a second face like this," he said, pointing to the small round circle inside the larger face. "And I am not familiar with these symbols."

"I feel like I've seen them before," she murmured, counting them. "Twelve. Just like one of my clocks." She pinched her forehead. "But these aren't numbers."

"They must symbolize something else. You wished for something to explain Aries and time-telling. Can the constellation be broken into twelve periods?"

"I don't think so, but I need to know what these symbols mean." She ran her fingers across the exaggerated V and the circle with what looked like horns that followed. "I'm sure I've seen them before."

And then, something clicked. "I _have_ seen them before." She needed to show him what she meant. "I wish I had a Zodiac calendar!"

"A _what?_ "

She unrolled the glossy piece of paper that had materialized on top of the clock and traced her finger around the circle until she found what she was looking for.

" _This_ is a way that Aries is used to tell time," she said, pointing at the corresponding wedge on the wheel. "It's called the Zodiac calendar. I still think it has to do with the sky, but there's a window of days for each symbol. And they all match the ones on the clock."

She looked closer at the lettering under the wedge marked 'Aries'. "Aries is the period of March 20th to April 20th. I know my world is frozen, but maybe it's still rotating?" She wondered, trailing off and looking up at a thoroughly confused Jareth. This wasn't the time to dive into that; he'd be just as confused about earth science as she had been about magic. She pointed back at the wedge.

"Basically, we must be near the middle of this period. If the Council has it right on the 'apex', I suspect the middle is in two days. You brought me here at the end of Ma-" but she didn't finish the thought, eyes widening.

Jareth didn't seem to notice she'd stopped mid-sentence, picking the calendar off her lap. "How peculiar," he murmured before looking up at her. "Does this calendar have something to do with war?"

"No," she whispered. "But I must."

The odd expression on his face returned. "Why would you think that?"

"Because I was _born_ on March 30th. I'm an Aries," she pulled the book out from her side and gestured at it meaningfully. "I could be _this_ Aries."

His own widened in turn and he grabbed the book from her.

"That would explain why this is in the section on the wished away and why we didn't see another mention of me. _This_ could be me."

He read it again. "This Aries battles in war with weapons, Sarah...," he trailed off, considering her.

"Weren't you the one who just asked me to train your goblin army?" She replied, throwing up her arms. At times, his memory seemed awful.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Even so, are you planning on _calling_ for war?"

"Of course not!"

"Then you must be mistaken. The Aries in this poem calls for it. And training aside, I would _never_ risk sending you into battle."

Something in Sarah's stomach flipped at the veracity of his statement. She drew her eyes to his quickly, thinking she must have heard it wrong, but his countenance only mirrored the the severity of his words. She settled back deep into her chair, the muddled thoughts threatening again. That hadn't sounded like guilt.

"You have to admit it would make some sense though," she started slowly, still convinced she was on to something. "You found it strange there was nothing in the books on me, the _only_ person who solved the Labyrinth. And if I've considered it, the Council can't be that far behind. They picked up on the time-telling before I did." She frowned, concerned that a Council of _fey_ had caught on to the human science before her. "And I don't think they'd have any trouble believing I'd start a war."

"No," he agreed blandly, "I am sure they would not."

"Even if they haven't yet, I say we assume they'll think this is me. They might already. 'Aries' could mean two separate things in the poem; me and the Zodiac window of days. Maybe it's _three_ different Aries' and I'm not the one calling the war." She ran a hand through her hair, thinking that would be a strange way to phrase the subjects of a poem, but it certainly was possible. The books were filled with vague prophecies.

She focused on him again. "I told you it didn't make sense to have a constellation acting. The distinction between the Aries' would address that." She looked at the Underground clock in the room before gesturing at Toby. "The three hours didn't change anything with Toby and I don't know what else to look into besides this."

"You think you could be the last Aries?" He asked, still skeptical. "That one still calls a weapon."

"Maybe its not a sword or something like that. Pens are often talked about as weapons in my world. 'The pen is mightier than the sword' and all that. I don't know." She threw up her hands and stood, moving to pace alongside the chairs. "The whole verse is vague. It's all I've got."

He was silent for a second, but then his eyes widened and he caught her by the arm as she passed. "You can call a weapon, Sarah. You've done it here many times now."

She frowned, but then snapped her head around, realizing what he meant. Not a weapon in the sense of _her_ world, but one in his. The only one she'd used.

"Magic."


	14. Chapter 14

As soon as he said it, Sarah felt like she'd been hit by a huge ton of bricks. A huge _obvious_ ton of bricks. With how tied she was to the Labyrinth, there was no way she and her old magic wouldn't have been in the book.

She just hadn't considered the solution would be hidden behind her birthday.

She grabbed back for the book. "This has to be it, Jareth! This part has to be what we need to do to reverse it." She read the lines again, translating it with the new meanings.

W _hen Aries calls its weapon, it will answer to the true._

_The time to come when truth accepted, the victory already won._

She knew this Aries had to be her and the weapon was her old magic. For the most part, she'd been able to wish for things she sincerely needed. Was it actually things she truly needed? The wording was different, but it was close to being 'true'.

"I think you were almost right about my mindset," she offered, glancing up to see him grin. "It's a slight distinction, but I think the 'true' might stand for things I truly need, instead of things I sincerely need."

"A very small distinction," he agreed.

"Maybe I didn't truly need to translate that first book?" She grimaced. That one had been more confusing that insightful. "It's possible, I guess."

"And the Above?" He raised an eyebrow. "Did you not truly need to fix that?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know I did. I still do," she corrected. "That's got to be this second line."

Jareth craned his neck to read it again. "It does use the word 'time.'"

She had noticed that too. When she'd read it the first time, she just hadn't put it together that 'time to come' might mean for time to come back and _restart_ in her world. Reading it now, with herself as the subject, she saw it clearly. But that's where her understanding stopped.

"I have no idea what 'truth' I need to accept," she groaned, looking up at him. "That could mean anything."

"I doubt it's that expansive. It must be tied somehow to the problem," he started, taking the book from her. "There must be something you need to accept about the situation. Something you are presently denying," he flicked his eyes up, studying her face intently as if he was trying to pull the answer from her mind.

"What are you denying, Sarah?"

Sarah froze. His question was dangerously coaxing as it pinned her in place, searching for something unknown. Something she couldn't explain.

But she could _feel_ it in the heat of his eyes, calling her back to the specter of last night. The incomprehensible memory that she had tried to keep stuffed in a box: him pressed hard against her, lips indistinguishable and hands frenzied, her mind just as lost. A memory of how she couldn't pull him close enough, as if trying to erase the worlds of difference between them.

Incomprehensible, but hers a different sort of incomprehensible than guilt.

"I…I don't know," she whispered. Because she honestly didn't. She couldn't deny something she didn't understand.

"Hmm," he hummed darkly, still not releasing her from his stare. "I would suggest you figure it out."

Sarah realized her mouth had gone dry when she tried to respond, so she settled for an open-mouthed nod. Only then did he pull his focus back to the book.

"Whatever truth you need to accept seems also tied to a victory. I suspect that means the success of fixing the Above. This all rests on you realizing it."

With his gaze distracted, a semblance of sound returned to Sarah. "Maybe," she started, swallowing to soothe the scratch in her throat. "Maybe the line about the apex has something that can help? We know the Council is focusing on that one."

He tilted the book her way so she could read it again. She held on to the side of the book closest to her, trying to clear the incomprehensible memory and focus on the solution.

_When Aries reaches the apex of Its rule, what comes past shall remain._

_A battle fought, only leading to surrender._

The Council had determined that this Aries was the constellation and its corresponding Zodiac; the 'apex' the middle of the period of days. The peak of its 'rule' in the sky? She supposed it was possible, even though the Zodiac Aries was represented by a ram and not…

Sarah dropped her hand, burned by the realization yet frozen in place.

Jareth was quick to catch and balance the book again. He noticed her shock immediately. "What? Did you realize something?"

_Oh. My. God. Did he really not see it? There was another way Aries could rule and remain. It had been his suggestion._

"The Council may have it…wrong," she said slowly, still not grasping what she was saying. _Why_ she was saying it. It was mad to bring it up.

Jareth didn't respond immediately but stayed focused on her, tilting his head slightly. "How so?"

He really didn't see it. She _had_ to be wrong, she decided. If he still didn't see it, that couldn't be what it meant. And if she said it, he'd make her take the crystal on the board and that would be it. There was no way she was guilting him into something as drastic as that. Not based on some vague wording in an ancient book. Not unless she was certain.

He was still looking at her expectantly and she knew she had to say something. "It's…wrong," she began, thinking fast, "for it to say surrender here and then victory at the end. It's contradictory."

"You said the _Council_ had it wrong," he challenged.

_Fuck. Come on, Sarah._

"We both might have it wrong. About just needing to reverse my world. There needs to be a surrender and that victory," she said quickly, unable to look him in the eye.

It was still a shoddy explanation but he seemed to let it lie. He didn't call her out on it, at least. Instead, she heard him exhale slowly through his nose.

"I had wondered if you'd figured out why this particular 'Its' is emphasized. The other two after Aries are not and it seems odd to signal a difference here."

She hadn't even noticed that, but looking at it now, she agreed it seemed odd. She held the edge of the page again. "No," she began, brow furrowed. "I didn't even notice that, actually."

"It's almost as if there's something more important involved in the line. Something requiring greater emphasis."

_Like a queen?_ She couldn't control the thought. Her subconscious knew it fit.

Sarah dropped her edge of the book again. Could _that_ be what she had to accept? She hadn't exactly _denied_ his offer, but there was no doubt she was searching for a different solution.

_Good lord. He may have been right about his plan B._

"You're acting oddly," he noted, eying her sideways after he caught the book again. "Are you well?"

"I need to sit down," she whispered. It was far too much to process on so little sleep. She'd been certain she'd find a way around guilting him into wasting his eternity - _her_ eternity – but that confidence was fading fast.

He barely had time to clear the chair of its clock before she fell into it, almost numb. The book was dropped to the floor. "Sarah?"

He kneeled right in front of her, but Sarah looked right through him. The multi-colored dinosaurs were diving in and out of her vision.

_Toby_. _I can at least get him out._

"Can you take Toby home?" She asked it past him, eyes glued to her brother. "I won't let him change."

Jareth didn't move from his hunch, still watching her with obvious concern. He knew she cared about the boy, but she had to know any changes would take much longer than three hours. All the runners had thirteen hours to solve the Labyrinth. Nothing would happen to the boy after three.

Something else had to have paralyzed her. Something in the line? "Sarah—"

" _Please_ , Jareth."

Her words were pained and he knew she was clearly struggling with something. Something more difficult than even the news of her loss of mortality. Sarah had never been one to beg. He hadn't lied to his father about one thing; it was hard to deny the pleas of women.

Especially this woman.

He sighed before nodding. "I'll take him Above, but I'm taking you back to your room to rest first. We can figure this out later when you feel better."

He _still_ didn't see it. And now she was almost certain she'd solved it. Before she found her voice to tell him, he pulled her up from the chair, wrapping his arm around as he had when they'd fled the dinner. She didn't have to fake anything about her sag this time.

He transported them quickly to her room. Without knowing how she got there, Sarah found herself propped up against the pillows at the headboard. A blanket was pulled up to her waist.

"Try and get some rest," he urged, something unreadable in his eyes. "I'll be back soon."

"Jareth—"

But he was already gone.

* * *

Jareth returned to his office, moving quickly to pick up the boy and settle him over his shoulder. Despite his time here, he was still ice cold. Jareth grimaced, trying to picture the destination Above. When it came to him clearly, he knew Sarah had done her part to grant him the power to take her brother home.

If her brother's presence Underground was a cause of her distress, he was relieved he could at least remove that concern. There was clearly something more, though.

In an instant, the boy was tucked back into bed, surrounded by an excess of brightly-colored trinkets and toys. Jareth hadn't focused on the boy's room when he came earlier, but he now saw that Sarah had passed on her love of the fantastical to the boy.

A small table in the corner of the room was littered with various winged figurines that couldn't exist in this world. A picture book with an image of huge horned beast on its cover appeared to have fallen off its end, a consequence perhaps of the mess of characters already scattered across it. Jareth bent over to pick it up, quirking a lip at how similar the creature looked to one Sarah had befriended, and put it on a shelf alongside a row of other books.

A familiar looking bookend caught his attention. He knew something else he could do to relieve some of her distress. It was something she'd already asked him to do.

He hesitated briefly, but decided her well-being was more important than his grudge. And the dwarf's company might also help calm whatever was plaguing her. Without another glance at it, he took himself back below.

* * *

Sarah pulled herself to the side of the bed sometime after he left, the shock of the realization somewhat lessened without his presence. After directing multiple outbursts at him for keeping secrets, she knew she couldn't not tell him what she'd figured out. She wasn't a hypocrite. She had just needed some time to come to terms with the burden.

Because that's all she would be. He'd made it clear he'd run out of other ideas to try. And if his perception of the fey was correct, her becoming queen would only increase the lines of fey after her head. Yet, he'd still offered his protection because of his mistake.

For an eternity.

Sarah groaned, dropping her head to her hands. She didn't have an alternative plan or explanation. There was no Plan C. She was brought here to fix the Above, and she'd figured out the likely solution. She couldn't sit here brooding and whining about it. Because he had been right that first moment in his office; this would have never happened if she'd never wished Toby away. They were both at fault.

This was bigger than her. Her whole world was at stake. Considering that, becoming Goblin Queen seemed a small price to pay in comparison.

She rubbed at her eyes once, then stood and moved towards the door, intent on finding Jareth to tell him what she'd found. She made it halfway to the door before she heard yelling outside her door.

"Ruddy goblins, this 'aint where she'd be. I needs to see _Sarah!_ "

_Hoggle?_

She rushed to pull open her door. He was halfway down the hall already, but his lopsided jaunt and bag of jewels made him unmistakable. "Hoggle!"

He leapt several inches before turning. "Sarah!?"

Before Sarah could respond, he'd hurried back to her door, looking at her with a strange expression. Relief? Surprise? It was not a look of Hoggle's she was familiar with.

"Yer alright," he huffed, bending over to his knees to catch his breath.

She gave him an odd look. She knew Hoggle didn't trust Jareth, but he knew she was working with him on the shifts. She hadn't even mentioned the Council; there was no reason for him to think something had happened to her.

"Of course I'm alright. I've certainly been better, but I'm all in one piece." She put a hand of his shoulder. He was still breathing heavy. "Are you alright? You didn't run all the way here, I hope."

"Nah," he answered, shaking his head. " _He_ brought me."

Sarah frowned. That didn't make any sense. Jareth couldn't stand Hoggle. "Jareth brought you? Why?"

"Says yeh need me. Woulda' came here meself after all he said anyways," he huffed. "He was all off. I had to make sure yer alright."

_All off?_ "What are you talking about?"

But Hoggle seemed to have suddenly found the inside of her room more interesting than her question, slipping under her arm to get a closer look.

"Why are yeh… _here_?" He turned back to her, a queasy expression having muddled his relief.

"This is my room," she replied slowly, eying him now with more concern. "Are you sure you're ok? I told you I was staying here."

"Yeh never said yeh was _here_. I thought yeh been below, where the others stay." He was looking more ill. "This is s'posed to be the queen's room," he moaned. "Always has been."

_What?_

"Been in this castle 'nough," he explained, grimacing deeper. "I knows his mark next door."

"Back up. What do you mean 'always has been'? He told me he set this up after I got here."

"He's a rotten liar, then. Knew he was off when he apologized…" he grumbled.

"He _what_?" Sarah almost shrieked, her concentration faltering again. That sounded awfully like what she'd wagered in the chess game. But she hadn't won. They hadn't even _finished_ it, but he had clearly been winning when they were interrupted. There was no way he'd thought otherwise.

Hoggle flinched at her pitch and frowned at her. "Knew it was a trick. Didn't make no sense."

Sarah squatted down and grabbed him by both shoulders, forcing him to look at her. "I need you to tell me exactly what he said."

He tried to pull back, but Sarah held him steady. He huffed. "Don' know exactly but he said somethin' 'bout amends. Offered back me job, too."

_Dear god, no wonder Hoggle was freaked. Was Jareth having a breakdown too?_

"Did he say why?"

He shook his head. "An' I didn't ask. Brought me right here after."

"I need to find him," she said, standing. He appeared to be bending over backwards to try and ease her distress. She had to tell him what was really going on. "Do you know where he went?"

He grumbled but answered with a shake of his head. "Dropped me at the entry an' left."

Sarah could think of only three places he might be. One was closer than the others, so she patted Hoggle on the shoulder again and rushed over to the door connecting their rooms. She hovered her hand just before it. Despite it still being light outside, she wasn't sure it was a wise idea to just barge into his bedroom unannounced.

"Jareth? Are you in there?"

"He's got a _door_ to yeh?" Hoggle shrieked.

Sarah rolled her eyes but didn't bother trying to calm him. He was going to have a conniption fit when he found out what she needed to do to fix her world anyway. And Jareth, despite his suggestiveness early on, had not taken advantage of her close proximity.

The specter of his kiss hit her like a heatwave. Not _really_ taken advantage, at least.

Not hearing a response, she pushed gently at the door and it opened immediately. But like several nights prior, there was no sign of him.

"Right. He's probably in his office, then," she spoke to herself, turning back and moving quickly to her hall door. Hoggle watched her haste with newfound panic.

"What d'ya need him for?"

She paused just in front of the outer door, turning back to him with a look of resolve. He would find out soon enough anyway. Better he heard it from her.

"I need to tell him that I think I've figured out how to restart Time in my world. I need to become Goblin Queen."

Sarah watched as his normal sickly coloring faded into an even more grisly shade. It was predicted. He'd never had the stomach for situations involving Jareth. And she'd never been _this_ involved with Jareth before.

She kneeled in front of him. "Try not to worry about me. I've come to terms with it. With being with him. I'll get to see you more, too." She smiled at him. "Plus, you'll have an ally at the top of the food chain."

"But _Sarah_ —"

"I can't leave my world frozen, Hoggle," she said softly. "If you had the power to save your world, I think you'd try to save it too."

Hoggle still looked queasy, but he sighed and nodded. Sarah stood back up and opened the door. "You can stay here if you don't want to see him again. I'll be back."

And she left Hoggle staring.

* * *

Sarah found him at his desk reading the book on the Labyrinth. She wondered if he'd now realized what she saw. It would make her revelation much easier if she didn't have to take the lead on asking him for the throne.

"I need to talk to you about the poem," she spoke clearly.

He glanced up and a flash of relief graced his face. "Sarah. You're feeling better?"

She nodded. "I needed some time to…process," she said, pausing as she slid into her spindly chair. "Thank you for taking Toby back. And for Hoggle. It meant a lot."

He watched her carefully, nodding slightly. He didn't appear to her to have had any sort of breakdown. Still, his resulting silence made it apparent he was going to let her speak her peace on what she found.

"I think I've figured out what it means. Part of it, at least," she gestured for the book. "May I?"

He was already on the page, so she jumped right into her theory. "I didn't think it made perfect sense to have the Zodiac or constellation Aries 'rule' in the sky. It's represented by a ram, not any sort of leader. Added with the fact that the 'Its' describing the rule is emphasized, I have to believe that whoever is ruling has a title," she stopped again, to see if he understood where she was going, but his face appeared blank. She sighed. He wasn't going to make this easy. "A queen can rule and remain, too. An Aries queen."

She saw his eyes widen slightly, so she knew he realized what she was saying. He remained silent, however. She couldn't place the subsequent look he was giving her.

Perhaps now he was having that breakdown.

"It would also fit the last section." She moved on, leaning over to show him. "Ever since you suggested it, I've been denying that becoming Goblin Queen was the answer, but I've come to terms with it. With remaining with you. So," and she swallowed, "if you're still offering, I accept."

Jareth blinked several times, looking dumbstruck. She knew he understood that part, but he didn't immediately respond. She coughed to try and knock him back to his senses. "Well?"

He jumped from his desk and moved around it and past her, mumbling something like 'of course' to himself. Still, he said nothing to her. Sarah frowned, but turned to see him pick the crystal up from the chess board. He definitely understood.

Sarah stood to face him, feeling very much like the spellbound fifteen-year-old girl to whom the Goblin King had offered himself years before. But now, his expression had warmed to something far from pleading as he proffered her the melting crystal.

This time, she took it.


	15. Chapter 15

She wasn't exactly sure what would happen when she wrapped her hand around the amulet. Jareth had never been clear on how the transfer of his magic worked. But he'd told her this morning that she needed to put it on, so she lifted the piece over her head and let it settle between her breasts. It looked intensely strange resting on top of her casual tee-shirt.

But she didn't feel any different.

Sarah frowned, picking it up from her chest and staring up at him. "Is that it? Do I have access to your mag—"

But he'd cut her off, wrenching her lips up to meet his in a demanding kiss and Sarah found immediately she didn't mind if a more traditional sealing was needed. She dropped the amulet, returning her hand to tangle in his hair.

His mouth moved in line with hers, fighting for dominance. Sarah fought back with just as much heat. She didn't want it any other way. _Wouldn't_ have it. His kisses were intoxicating, drugging her like the peach dream yet heightening all of her senses. She could smell the heady spices in the air and taste the urgency on his lips. She felt the heat of his body pressed against her and the flow of strange magic in her veins. She heard the blood thrumming harder.

With one last nip at her lips, he pulled away, and Sarah was left staring at the same dark eyes as last night. The ones that made her feel something incomprehensible. And now, she'd become his _queen_. The strange pressure in her stomach flipped again.

"You should notice it now. A heightening of senses," his voice was rough; as dark and desiring as his eyes. "I can tell you've accepted my magic."

She couldn't help but lick her lips, the phantom of his tongue still tracing the spot he'd claimed. Acceptance was hardly what she felt. It was something more wanting, but she swallowed without stating such.

"I feel it. There's something richer about your magic," she smiled a half-smile. "Unsurprising, given you're a king. But not at all like what I sense with the old magic."

He quirked his lips in return and Sarah found herself desperately wanting those lips back on hers. She cleared her throat. "Let me try this, then. I have a good feeling it'll work."

Jareth waved her on. His dark look was settling now, making it easier to take her ritual breath to focus.

"I wish Time Above would restart." She spoke confidently, certain the added richness of his magic would prod her world back to normal.

The wish _felt_ different. The strange thrumming in her veins amplified ten-fold. She stumbled slightly when a dizzy spell hit her, but Jareth caught her instantly.

"Are you well?" He asked, the concern returning.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she shook her head twice and the dizziness faded. "That one definitely felt different. Check if it worked."

He called the crystal. As he held it out before them, Sarah could see that _something_ had changed. It didn't look exactly right, though. The rain was falling, but not nearly as fast as she thought it should be, and the kids by the puddle looked to be jumping in slow-motion. The tree limbs outside her window followed a similarly delayed schedule as they bent.

Time in her world had started to run, but not at full speed. Still, Sarah whooped. "Thank _God_."

Jareth sounded less pleased. "That doesn't seem quite right. Your world is not running at proper speed."

"But it _started_ , Jareth. That's got to mean something. Maybe it takes a bit to catch up after being frozen for so long. It's on a time delay." It had to be. She had already bound herself to Jareth and his Labyrinth. She wasn't sure what else she could possibly need to accept.

He sighed. "Unless it catches up in the next day, I'm not confident that will satisfy the Council. They won't want it to remain like this either. Wishes, if any, would be highly sporadic given the slow speed."

Sarah couldn't hide the growl of frustration that followed. She'd like nothing better than to give the Council a piece of her mind. The idea that they'd snatch her now that she'd restarted Time was nonsensical; they couldn't just attack her on a whim that she knew was _wrong_.

"Then we have to make them see that they are wrong about the middle line," she declared. "The shifts can't be tied to the constellation's 'rule'; we just disproved it. Plus, if they're so focused on Time being frozen, won't they realize something in my world has changed?"

"Assuredly. They'll also know that the Goblin Kingdom has a queen. I wouldn't expect them to wait long to investigate." He shifted then, quirking a brow. "I hope you aren't expecting congratulations or good wishes from them on our nuptials."

She snorted. She'd hardly expected her status to be _acknowledged_ based on how Jareth had detailed fey feelings towards humans. They likely would consider her to be a power-grabbing leech that should be squashed; which actually, sounded like a better role than the dutiful whore.

Maybe now she'd have the authority to tell them off.

"Then you'll be prepared for when they come," he drawled, clearly approving of her response. "I wouldn't expect it to take long."

"How will they even know you've taken a queen?" Sarah knew the Council was powerful, but its not like they sent out wedding announcements. There really hadn't even been a ceremony.

Jareth grimaced. "The Council won't notice the union, but my father and Arlyck will. All in my familial line will feel the change in magic. They'll tell them immediately."

Sarah returned his grim expression. From what she'd seen of Arlyck, he appeared unduly loyal to the High King and his Council; the High King unwilling to challenge them too. They'd surely know soon. It almost seemed pointless to wait around for the proverbial axe to drop.

"If we can't hide it, why are we just waiting here for them to barge in? Why not take the battle to them? Throw them off-guard and all." She grinned slightly, the rush of new magic riling up her confidence. "It worked with you."

"You want to go to them?" An arched eyebrow signaled his disbelief. "Knowing they'll likely still want your head?"

"Will I be able to speak on my own initiative now that I'm the Goblin Queen?" She mirrored his look. Despite the Council's fortitude, she thought she could hold her own if she was allowed to try. She had time to convince them before their imaginary deadline hit and with the amulet around her neck, they'd know immediately she wasn't just another mortal.

Plus, she'd dealt with her fair share of male assholes who thought they were better than women. Her college was littered with them. If allowed to speak up, she'd make the Council see they were wrong about the middle line and foolish to cling to their assassination plan.

His resounding grin gave her the clear answer she'd been looking for. "I stand by my earlier statement; they'll have no idea what to make of you. We'll still need to make a plan."

* * *

The plan they came up with was relatively simple.

They both knew the Council was focused on the middle line, driven by a need to correct the Above before they believed its frozen status would 'remain.' It was obvious now that the Above wasn't frozen – just slow – which gave them an advantage on correcting that misconception. Killing her wasn't the solution to restarting time; they just had to make it clear part of the solution was tied to _her_ 'ruling' and 'remaining.' Jareth would state he'd known as much all along – he'd merely been waiting for her to turn before taking her as his queen - and he'd still have to keep up the appearance that the other part was tied to finishing his 'enchantments.' He assured her he'd done enough to keep his father from asking more questions about them.

The only other concern was convincing the Council that she would not be waging war or calling any match or weapons. Becoming Goblin Queen gave her the legitimate explanation for those terms that she'd reasoned before: she'd be partially responsible for the goblin army. And their ineptitude actually benefitted her position. Whatever the Council thought the rest of the poem meant, she needed to make it clear she had no interest in warmongering with an army that was _sure_ to lose any battle. Plus, the middle line explicitly predicted such: 'a battle fought, only leading to surrender.'

Given all that, the only reason for her and Jareth to ever wage war would be if they were attacked and had to defend themselves. They certainly weren't a military threat to the Council. And if the Council knew anything about the goblin army, she thought it likely they'd concede the point.

Story settled, they were now considering how best to make an entrance.

"Would you be expected to make any sort of public announcement about choosing a queen? I mean, given your father is High King, I would think it'd be a big deal."

He hesitated. "It is common for bindings of ruling fey to be publicly celebrated, particularly given their singularity. But I do not know of another binding between a fey ruler and someone from Above. I would not think proclaiming it would fit protocol."

"Screw protocol. Nothing about our situation has been normal. We need to make it loud and clear that the Council is wrong about their plan and that me ruling is the answer." She paused then, realizing how to gain an additional advantage. "Actually, I think we need to convince as many fey as possible that the Council is wrong. If the fey really do depend on the wished away, it seems to me as if more than the Council would care about fixing my world. I say we gain some allies. We can play some politics of our own."

"Spoken like a true queen," he said drolly, shaking his head in amusement. "They'll regret challenging you."

Hazel eyes flashed alongside her grin. "I'm counting on it."

* * *

Sarah wasn't quite sure what was driving her newfound confidence on challenging the Council. She had always been a bit headstrong, but she hadn't even considered trying to challenge the Council when she only had the old magic. Thinking of it now, she at the very least might have been able to wish herself some sort of security against them. But she hadn't even considered making a stand.

Because of that, she assumed it had something to do with having access to Jareth's magic. She knew Jareth routinely challenged the Council; it was the whole reason he'd been appointed Goblin King. She'd likely absorbed the trait. She smirked. Two rulers challenging the Council's authority were sure to cause a stir, but her confidence would serve her plan. She needed other fey to believe she was right.

In the end, they settled on bringing the announcement to the fey instead of trying to bring the fey to them. They didn't have time to arrange for some grand event in the Goblin Kingdom and invite guests. Not if the Council was set on its timeline.

Jareth explained there was a central Kingdom from which the High King ruled. She'd assumed as much from what she'd read. He also thought it would also be where the most influential allies would be found.

"There is a chamber from which he hears grievances and rules on various other matters. It is usually crowded as he only allots an hour a day for such pursuits. I suspect we'd reach the widest audience if we announced it there."

"Alright, when is it?"

Jareth glanced at the clock in the office, grimacing. The present hour was likely why neither his father or the Council had called on him yet. He offered her his arm. "If we want to do it tonight, we're going to have to hurry."

Sarah pulled at her tee-shirt. "I'm not going to convince anyone dressed like this."

"No," he answered, grinning as he gripped her arm instead. "I have something better in mind."

She knew he'd taken them to him room before he even let go of her arm and moved towards a door near his boot closet. But she wasn't sure what he was looking for. Surely, not an outfit in her size.

"Shouldn't I just wish for something? I bet I could come up with something that would give off an aura of a Goblin Queen."

"There's no need," he replied, emerging from the door with something black folded over his arm. He laid it on the front of his bed and moved back to let her get a look at it. "This will give them no doubt as to your identity."

_Jesus Christ, that was for sure._

The black dress, done up with various lacings and leathers, looked very much like the armored ensemble in which he'd first presented himself. With her also wearing the amulet, she thought she'd make a similarly striking picture.

She held it up. Like all the outfits in her armoire, it looked close to her size. She glanced back to him, eyebrow raised. "You just happened to have this in your closet?"

"This plan was my suggestion, Sarah. I try to be prepared."

Sarah furrowed her brow, thinking it odd that he already had such an outfit when he'd only suggested it to _her_ last night. He hadn't had much spare time, particularly since she'd left him last night with no indication she'd accept the offer and he'd been occupied with her, his father, Toby, and Hoggle all day today.

_Hoggle!_ She suddenly remembered he was still waiting for her in her room. "Hold on a sec, I've got to tell Hoggle not to wait up for me."

She didn't wait for him to respond before running over to the adjoining door and pushing it open.

"Hoggle—" But she stopped when she realized he wasn't there. She frowned. She didn't think she'd been gone _that_ long, but she knew Hoggle was wary about being around Jareth. And she hadn't exactly eased his distress by telling him she was marrying him.

She didn't have time to worry about Hoggle now. The High King's hour would be starting soon.

She ran back into Jareth's room and noticed he'd already changed into the inspiration for her outfit. She didn't hesitate to wish on her own. With all the new magic, she wasn't concerned that it wouldn't work.

As she grabbed onto his arm, Sarah couldn't help but see that his eyes had gone dark again.

* * *

When they appeared, Sarah noticed immediately she hadn't felt the expected sinking feeling. At all. And she knew they'd come a far distance. She looked up at him, the question obviously clear from her expression because he beat her to it.

"I suspect you tolerated this transfer better than the others. Another consequence of your access. My magic should feel very natural to you from now on."

It made sense. She was keyed into the same magic; she shouldn't have expected it to feel foreign or uncomfortable. She nodded, letting him lead her forward.

They were not in the same building as the dinner with the Council. Or at least, the hallway they'd appeared in looked nothing like the Council's marbled entranceway. Large stone columns lined the walkway, only shades lighter than the charcoal stone of the walls itself. No paintings or accoutrements decorated the faces. No sconces graced the walls. It felt to Sarah almost as if it was a long tunnel in a cavern. It was…intimidating.

"This isn't the most inviting of hallways," she mumbled as they walked towards a large black door. They hadn't even met anyone in the corridor.

He snorted. "I'm not sure why that surprises you. It's meant to deter those who don't have legitimate business to present to the High King. Still, every time I've been here, the room fills."

As they approached the door, Sarah could hear the whispers of jumbled dialogue inside. Her plan was a go; there were clearly fey here.

"We're a little late, so I suspect he's already begun." He cocked his head to grin at her, hand on the door. "But I have no doubt he'll notice our entrance."

Before she could ask him why he thought as much, he'd thrown open the door with a 'bang' and had tilted her head up to capture her mouth. And then the question was lost in his thin lips and fierce grip as he claimed her again as his own. As before, he was possessive and unyielding, catching her off-guard with the warm swipe of his tongue and the smile against her lips. But she noticed then that the whispers had faded to nothing and all too soon, he let her go, smirking with a dark promise of something more.

_I might have thrown him off-guard with my acceptance, but he is_ very _good at taking back the upper-hand._

Sarah willed her pulse to slow as she turned to the front of the chamber.

The High King's eyes caught hers immediately.

"Jareth," the High King said mildly, a tone very at odds with the look he then gave him. "I've been wondering if you'd show, given the latest Above." His eyes moved back to Sarah. "And I'd thought you'd have the good sense to tell me you'd chosen a queen before making it official."

The High King clearly didn't appreciate the surprise of his son's binding, but hadn't said anything to slight her. Sarah took it as a sign he might be willing to hear her out.

A very flushed Sarah watched then as the crowd of shining faces parted to give them a narrow pathway to the dais. Several men sat on either side of the king. She recognized them vaguely as the Council members, but would know better if they spoke.

"We had planned on seeking you out when we finished here," a familiar nasally voice added, and Sarah knew immediately the right players were here.

Sarah steadied her breathing. As planned, she took the lead. "We thought it best to present our binding here," she started, not even flinching under the cold gazes staring down at her. "Especially given that we've solved the Above."

The mumbling started back up around her and Sarah smiled imperceptibly. She knew she'd been right; the other fey were interested. Several of the Council members shifted in their seats. The High King turned to frown at the member to his left before looking back at Sarah. Said Council member kept his gaze only on Sarah.

"The progress can be discussed in private after we've finished here."

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, I was under the impression that the purpose of this gathering is for subjects to present their grievances. As Goblin Queen, my grievance is with your Council."

The mumbling had whirred into a roar of voices now. Sarah saw the Council members' faces darken at her accusation. Still, she didn't flinch. She had hundreds of interested ears standing ground beside her.

Sarah gestured vaguely to the crowd as the rumbling eased. "I'm certain those in line to speak before me would grant me some time to explain how the Council's intentions will keep the Above from wishing away children."

_That_ got the crowd's attention. Sarah listened as the unified gasps devolved into verbal chaos.

" _Quiet_ ," the High King's booming voice cut the crowd off and he focused on her. "That's quite the allegation."

Sarah stumbled slightly at his yell, but nodded sharply before steeling herself again.

"The Council has been reading the same old texts as Jareth. They found the same reference to how to repair the Above. But unlike Jareth, they've vastly misinterpreted the text. As you've seen, Time Above has restarted. It did so after he bound me to be his Goblin Queen, the Aries who will rule and _remain_." She let it hang in the air. Not quite the truth, but exactly what the crowd needed to know.

The High King didn't say anything to acknowledge her explanation but his glance darted back to the Council member on his left. As before, the member didn't take his eyes from Sarah, his head tilting along with the curve tugging at his lips. He stood quickly.

"Then it appears congratulations are in order, Your Majesty. Let me be the first to say how fortunate Jareth is to have found such a queen," he almost purred, bowing slightly.

The greeting caught Sarah off-guard. She hadn't expected the Council to acquiesce so quickly to her interpretation of the line, let alone congratulate her on becoming queen. She glanced sideways to Jareth for guidance. Was she supposed to _thank_ the Council? Jareth had been pretty clear that she shouldn't expect warm wishes. But he too looked caught off-guard at the member's acceptance and tidings.

The member continued through their surprise. "I wonder if you'd do us the honor of joining us to celebrate your good fortune tonight. Perhaps you can regale us with just how you deciphered the solution to the Above."

"Yes, Jareth. It is customary, after all," the High King added. "Not to be avoided because of your unusual haste in taking a queen. You'll stay here tonight."

Now Sarah was stunned. They wanted to throw them…a celebration? Several days ago, the Council members were calling her a whore and the High King had tried to sway her into his bed. Theirs were certainly not attitudes that she'd expected to have flipped so suddenly.

Had she _really_ been that convincing? She hadn't even gotten to the part about not wanting to bring war.

The High King stood then and beckoned them up to the dais before he turned and walked to open a door behind the throne. The Council members were quick to stand and follow, but none of them had given the pair the chance to answer.

Sarah whispered up at Jareth. "What do we do?"

Jareth still looked mildly shocked. But still, he whispered back. "We follow."


	16. Chapter 16

By the time Sarah and Jareth made it through the back door, the High King and Council members were nowhere to be found. Instead, Arlyck greeted them with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms. He looked strangely amused.

"My congratulations, half-brother. You've really outdone yourself this time," he paused, shaking his head. "Father about fell off his throne when he realized what you'd done."

Jareth snorted. "He should have hardly expected I'd ask for his permission."

"No," he said dryly, "he seemed more surprised that you never mentioned needing her for anything besides your sexual gratification."

Sarah flushed, despite knowing he was only speaking of the story they'd concocted. But she was suddenly very aware that she'd jumped into marrying him without having any sort of discussion about that particular aspect of marriage. With all his insinuation, she found it almost impossible that he hadn't considered it. With her. Sarah flushed deeper.

Jareth glanced down at her reddening face before raising a brow at Arlyck. "Whom I choose as my queen is no business of his. I did make it clear to him that I was making progress on the solution and that killing her would make matters worse."

Arlyck chuckled, shaking his head again. "Your gall amazes me, Jareth. It's a good thing you're his son. I don't think he'd tolerate it from anyone else."

"And yet we seem to not only be tolerated, but invited to a celebration," Jareth drawled. "I don't suppose you have any insight on what brought this on?"

"You just choose a queen, Jareth. It's not that complicated." Arlyck shook his head a third time and started down the hallway. "Come, I'm supposed to bring you to your room while the preparations are being made."

"If he had any idea of just how complicated this is..," Sarah muttered when Arlyck was out of earshot. Jareth just grinned and lead her after him.

The pair continued down the hall in silence, eventually stopping when Arlyck gestured to an elaborately carved door. "I'll be back when they've finished setting up the Grand Hall." He gave Jareth a knowing grin. "I'm sure you'll find a way to amuse yourselves in the meantime."

And before Sarah had the chance to process the wry look he had given them, Arlyck pushed open the door.

_Oh, fuck._

The room, of course, was a bedroom, and Sarah realized immediately that the High King hadn't been mincing words when he said they'd 'stay the night'. He had meant the _whole_ night; not just for the celebration.

The room itself really wasn't much more than the large four-poster bed and some decorative embellishments. But the several oil paintings and ornate sconces, heavy area rug, and expansive floor-to-ceiling windows on either side of the headboard did nothing to distract Sarah from the single bed dressed in black silks.

She turned back to see Arlyck bow and close the door on his way out. Sarah swallowed hard once the door clicked shut.

It wasn't difficult to see now how Arlyck had thought they'd 'amuse themselves'.

She looked nervously up at Jareth, but he was too busy rubbing at his eyes to look at her. "Your father expects us to stay _here_ tonight?"

Jareth exhaled slowly before dropping his hand. "I assure you that I had not expected my father to abide by this custom, but it is traditional for the higher family to host the couple after throwing the celebration." He glanced at her sideways. "Despite the unusual circumstances, this is still our wedding night, Sarah. You should expect a great deal of insinuation at the festivities tonight."

Sarah glanced back at the bed. "I don't suppose we can tell him we're not big into tradition?"

He snorted. "You are welcome to try." He sounded less than optimistic.

_Damn it._

Sarah then watched as he made his way over to the bed, unclasping his cape and throwing it over its end. He took a seat to quickly remove both boots and she realized with some panic that then he seemed to be trying to untie the straps that were keeping his winged breastplate in place.

"What are you doing?"

Jareth looked up, grinning at her shriek, but continued unlacing. "I am attempting to get comfortable. While this makes for a striking entrance, had I known your appeal would earn us these overnight festivities, I would have selected something less restrictive."

The high-collared breastplate was quickly added to the foot of the bed, leaving him only in a loose black shirt and his pants, and Sarah realized she was running out of pieces of clothing to make it clear to him she had no intention of sleeping with him just because it was 'technically' their wedding night.

"Look," she started, "I realize that I've gone and married you and there are certain expectations about the wedding night, but I'm telling you now that I'm not sleeping with you."

He had already settled himself against the pillows at the headboard, stretching out his legs as he lounged. He looked amused at her outburst. "Is that so."

She crossed her arms for support. "Yes. I barely know you. And I'm not that kind of girl."

An arm came behind his head as his stare turned fierce. "Your reactions when I kiss you suggest otherwise."

Sarah shifted uncomfortably, flushing. "Kissing is an entirely different story, Jareth."

He chuckled lowly. "Your modesty is endearing, Sarah, but unhelpful to our situation." He titled his head then, the amusement returning to his eyes. "You are well aware, of course, that everyone thinks we've been fucking since you wished yourself to me."

Sarah stumbled at his frankness, but took a deep breath to steady herself. "I don't see why that matters. They also think the only magic I have is yours."

"Yes," he drawled, "but you don't flush bright red when I mention old magic."

He chuckled again when she only gaped at him, but then crossed one leg at the knee and closed his eyes. "While amusing, your concern is misplaced. I had only intended to try and get some rest." One eye cracked open. "You'd do well to try to do the same. These occasions tend to drag on long into the night."

She frowned at him as the knot cleared quickly from her throat. "Won't Arlyck be back soon?"

"Doubtful," he scoffed, opening his other eye and bringing his arm back behind his head. "Given the haste of our union, they wouldn't have had time to prepare for a celebration. I suspect we have several hours to wait."

"Aren't you all fey? Can't they just quickly," she waved her hand vaguely, " _magic_ the preparations?"

"I don't suppose you've tried to wish for anything since you entered this castle?"

"Not yet," she answered warily. She had been planning to try and wish for a second bed.

He waved her on from his perch. "Go ahead and try. You'll figure out why we're not in any hurry."

She crossed her arms, not particularly in the mood for guessing games. "If you know why, you might as well just tell me."

He pursed his lips, bringing his hand back to rub at his eyes. "It's a defense mechanism, mostly," he said, then pointing at one of the sconces on the wall. "The iron permeating through this castle is meant to protect the High King and his Council from attacks. If we don't touch it, we won't be harmed, but the amount and proximity make it impossible to cast magic within these walls."

" _What_?" She hadn't even considered that she'd have to muddle through this evening without the security of their magic if things took a dangerous turn. She still wasn't comfortable with how swiftly the Council and High King's opinions of her had changed.

Jareth sat up and gave her another thin smile. "In our case, it's a bit of a double-edged sword. The Council and assorted guests tonight won't be able to try any enchantments on you, but we're left with only the necessities they've provided for us." He gestured to the sparse room before lying his head back again to rest. "I'd try not to worry about it."

_Try not to_ worry _about it? Good lord._

"You're not the least bit concerned about how quickly the Council accepted my explanation? About how they now want to celebrate when days ago they wanted me _dead_?"

"Of course, I am. But there's very little they could do about in here," he gestured at the room again, "and worrying will only make you less vigilant. We should obviously remain on our guard tonight, but I am trying to stay hopeful the Above will speed up by the time we depart tomorrow and the matter will resolve itself."

"And if not?" Sarah questioned.

"Then I'd suggest you start thinking about what else you might need to accept to satisfy the line," he drawled, raising an eyebrow in a way that suggested he had several ideas.

He grinned when Sarah flushed again, patting the space beside him and crossing his arms over his chest. "You should try and rest." The eye cracked open one last time. "I promise to be on my best behavior."

She couldn't stop her snort. She wasn't sure that meant very much where Jareth was concerned, particularly given his awareness of her attraction to him and his amusement at her modesty, but he had already closed his eyes again and had left her a sizeable space on the other side of the bed, seemingly content to just rest.

Frowning, she eyed the bed. She hadn't gotten much sleep last night, thanks to the surprise of his initial kiss, and she needed to be well rested if she was going to keep a wary eye on the Council all night long.

Jareth hadn't moved from his position.

_Oh, for fuck's sake. It's just a bed, Sarah. You've gone and married him already._

A growl tickled the back of her throat, but she swallowed it, settling herself against the pillows at the headboard. She made sure she kept a gap between Jareth's side and hers before she laid back and closed her eyes.

Jareth's chest rumbled beside her; he was obviously amused by her frustration. But he said nothing, and Sarah soon found herself content to drift off to the sound of his even breathing.

* * *

Initially, she wasn't sure what woke her up. She hadn't heard a knock at the door and didn't recall having shaken herself out of any strange dream. But she realized when she followed her arm down to the chest it had wrapped itself over and felt the brush of feathered hair across her face that she had somehow crossed the boundary she'd left herself last night.

The sound of deep breathing indicated that her runaway arm hadn't disturbed Jareth. But she was more surprised that it didn't disturb her either. Jareth's normally sharp expression had softened, his lips settled into a smile without his trademark smirk. He was undeniably beautiful awake, but the peaceful grace he possessed while sleeping was captivating. And unlike her arm, he'd been true to his word and had not tried anything during her nap.

She had never slept with a man, let alone woken up to one, but she found she did not at all mind waking up to Jareth. Something in her stomach flipped at the thought.

A loud knock at the door startled Sarah out of her musing. It also clearly startled Jareth.

"I'm starting to think I should have asked you to be on your best behavior," he rumbled, voice still rough with fatigue.

"Sorry," she mumbled as she pulled her arm off his chest and scooted to the edge of the bed.

"I don't mind, Sarah."

His response was strangely intense for sounding so soft, and Sarah looked over again to find his expression matched. She swallowed once before standing and distracted herself with smoothing out the wrinkles that had overtaken her dress.

When she was finally satisfied that she looked somewhat presentable, she went to open the door.

A well-dressed Arlyck met her, looking her up and down with amusement. Sarah tried to flatten out her hair when his gaze settled there. Given how she'd shifted over to Jareth when she'd slept, she probably looked in quite the state.

"Are they ready for us?" Jareth asked indifferently from behind her.

Arlyck nodded. "You might want to freshen up first," he suggested, pointing to a door out and across the hall. "Gossip travels like wildfire. I wouldn't expect an early night."

Sarah frowned at him, wary about the sort of gossip that was spreading about her. She was well aware that she'd been presented initially as Jareth's whore. She suspected the impressions of her couldn't have drifted far from there, despite her sudden change in status.

"Wonderful," she said, shaking her head and walking to open the door to which Arlyck had gestured. As expected, the washroom provided Sarah with the chance to see the sorry state of her hair, and she worked out the knots with a comb before splashing her face with a basin of water that had been provided.

She glanced up to see that Jareth had made his way behind her, fully dressed and startling her with a smirk in the vanity mirror. It wasn't really the smirk that startled her, but the striking picture they made: clad in almost matching black armor and horned pendants, her dark locks the night against his light feathered hair.

She'd imagined it, but the image in her head had been watered down and hazy. A title without an understanding. Looking at them now in the mirror, the reality of what she'd done pounded in her veins.

Sarah, the Goblin Queen. Of the _Underground_.

It still sounded incredibly strange and didn't quite have the same ring to it as 'Jareth, the Goblin King,' but that couldn't be helped. And it didn't dispel what she felt.

'Sarah, the Goblin Queen' was not someone the Council would catch unawares. She was not to be trifled with. If they were throwing them a façade of a celebration to prove only how impossible her judgment of the line had been, to show how foolish of a girl from Above she was to have made such an assumption, she'd make them know they were sorely mistaken.

She caught his eyes. "Let's get this over with."

* * *

Arlyck led them down several hallways before he stopped before a set of heavy double doors. "Congratulations again, Your Majesties," he said, the amusement still caught in his throat. And he pulled open the doors.

The hall was dimly lit, but a hundred pairs of eyes must have turned simultaneously from the rows of tables in the hall. She felt them scrutinize her steps and question her presence. But she held onto Jareth and moved down the aisle between them, not flinching at the glint of their curious eyes or the room's metal candelabras and mirrored walls. The whispers rose with the High King, who stood to greet them from his seat at a high table at the room's end, but Sarah kept her pace and expression steady until she stopped feet before him.

"Father. Council," Jareth drawled, greeting the five members on his father's sides with barely a nod. "May I formally introduce you to Sarah, my Goblin Queen. We hardly expected such ceremony on our behalf."

The High King's expression was difficult to place, but his lips quirked in a manner reminiscent of Jareth's own. "Your binding has brought great interest. Particularly given its timing and the change Above." His focus moved to Sarah briefly before shifting back to Jareth. "You never mentioned your intentions."

It had been the first not-question Jareth had expected. "It was only recently that it became clear that Sarah would need to rule and remain in order to completely repair the Above. Once she changed, I did not hesitate on such an important matter. The wishes have been delayed long enough."

The High King pursed his lips, but nodded, seemingly satisfied with the line. He gestured to the low table and chairs to his left below him. "You are familiar with custom, Jareth. They are particularly interested in meeting her."

Jareth bowed his head slightly and led Sarah to the small table that had been prepared for them. Two chairs had been set up on each side and as Jareth pulled back one of the ones facing the guests, Sarah realized with a jolt that she'd be unable to keep her eyes on the Council from that position. She looked quickly at Jareth, but he just grimaced while keeping his hand on the chair's back. He was obviously not pleased with the set-up ether.

Sarah breathed out slowly through her nose as she sat, but didn't turn to see if the Council's expressions had slipped from their neutral greetings back to their earlier cold looks. She suspected they had. Instead, she focused on the other guests.

Arlyck hadn't been mistaken about the interest of the guests; it was clear the hundreds of fey were whispering about her, some nodding furtively in her direction when they thought she wasn't looking. They sat in four rows of long tables that had been dressed in rich red tablecloths and gleaming place settings. Tall crystal decanters filled which what she assumed was alcohol had been spaced liberally across the tables.

To her, the set-up indicated more of a banquet dinner, not any celebration that would extend long into the night.

After he sat in his own chair, she leaned over to whisper into his ear. "Is this just a formal dinner?"

He snorted. "Hardly. Give them several minutes to start drinking." He nodded at her own glass. "I'd be careful with your own. Despite your change, I'm confident your tolerance for it is low."

Sarah casually swirled her glass, letting the dark liquid leave legs around its edges. "What is it?"

"Fey made wine. Many find it bitter in taste, but there's no doubt as to its potency." He nodded at a fey male several feet to Sarah's left who had quickly drained his own glass and was moving to refill it. "I'd stay away from him in particular."

"I hadn't planned on going anywhere," she said, looking up at him quizzically. "How do you expect this to go?"

He gestured at the empty chairs at their table. "It is customary for guests to join us as they wish. I suspect given the peculiarity of our binding that we will rarely be alone." He eyed her sideways, waiting until she had taken a cautious sip of her wine to whisper hot against her ear. "Not until tonight, that is."

Sarah coughed violently into her glass, whipping her head around to see him grinning. But before she could do more than glare at him – from his smug look, she _knew_ he'd done that on purpose – she heard the scratch of chairs sliding back. She glanced back to see that several voluptuous fair-haired women had taken the empty seats and were eying her speculatively.

The one on the right, dressed in a burgundy dress several sizes too small for her figure, looked her up and down once before she offered her a knowing smile. Sarah shifted in her seat. She could guess what the woman thought of her.

The woman smoothed out her dress before leaning forward. "My congratulations on your binding. You _must_ tell me how you've managed to keep his attentions." Her gaze drifted over to Jareth, but refocused eagerly on Sarah. "He's such a demanding lover."

_DEAR GOD._

Sarah shot up straight to gape at the woman who just asked her for her sex secrets. About _Jareth._ Before she could get her thoughts together, she heard Jareth chuckle beside her.

"An admirable try, Ariella, but I hardly think Sarah plans on sharing her talents with you," he drawled, curling his hand up at Sarah's neck to rub his merciless circles. "She's made her claim of me quite clear."

Ariella's face fell, but then her expression turned wry again and she refocused on Sarah. "If you'd rather not say, I'm more than willing to watch and learn."

Sarah's eyebrows rose but she could tell Jareth was grinning madly beside her. "Any thoughts, Sarah?"

_Good lord_. _Of course_ _he finds this incredibly amusing._

She breathed out slowly through her nose. She needed to end this conversation. She was here to figure out what the Council was planning, not discuss her imaginary sex life. "Ariella, was it? I believe my husband made it clear my secrets are my own."

She could see Jareth grin wider out of the corner of her eye as Ariella huffed. But the fey woman turned to her equally put-out companion with a frown and they quickly rose and left the table.

Jareth still looked absolutely gleeful when she turned to him after they'd left. She rolled her eyes. "That was _not_ amusing."

"I'm afraid I disagree, wife," he drawled, taking a sip of his wine while holding his grin. "I did try to warn you. Ariella will likely be more forward about my sexual proclivities than most. She knew she was a dreadful lover."

Sarah snapped her head back around to gape at him, shocked at how nonchalantly the phrase had been offered. But he seemed just as amused as before, taking another deep sip of his wine. He'd said it was potent. Sarah could only assume it'd already loosened his tongue.

She pushed her own glass away. It was going to be a _long_ night.

Sarah finally shook his phrase out of her head. "I expected some insinuation, but not… _that_." Sarah couldn't pull together a better description of the inappropriate questions, but she knew he understood what she meant. "I figured most would be interested in how we fixed the Above."

"I still suspect some will be, but you should know, particularly after dining with my father and the Council, that most fey aren't coy with their sexual pursuits. She likely didn't understand your reservations on the subject and meant no offense." He took another sip of his wine, still holding his grin. "I would expect similar inquiries all evening."

A growl settled in Sarah's throat. "Perfect."

After Jareth's warning, Sarah was prepared for the scores of interested women that approached their table. She quickly learned that insisting on the privacy of her sexual life - as she had with Ariella - convinced them not to stay very long; it seemed to be the only thing the women cared about.

It didn't take long to see that word must have gotten around that she wouldn't be sharing any 'tricks' because she saw their frustrated glances remain at their tables.

Jareth remained highly amused through the madness of it all, helping himself to the meats and cheeses that has been placed on their table. "I don't think you've made any allies in them, Sarah," he chuckled when the women stopped approaching.

"They didn't ask any questions that indicated they even cared about my world," she murmured, rubbing at her temples. "I doubt they would have understood what I deciphered from the poem. And all the men seem too interested in the wine and women to ask me anything." She sighed and leaned in closer to him, lowering her voice. "Have you been able to tell anything from watching the Council?" She'd noticed him glancing back periodically during her quick 'chats'.

"Unfortunately not. They are clearly keeping an eye on you, but I've been unable to make out their conversation." He gestured vaguely to the crowd. "It is difficult to hear much of anything anymore."

_Damn._

He was right about the crowd, however. The whispers had pitched into a fever as the decanters were emptied and she could barely hear Jareth without leaning inches from him. He didn't seem to mind, of course. He had a perpetual grin on his lips all evening.

As the night wore on, it became readily apparent why Jareth had warned her about staying away from the male to which he'd gestured. Sarah had been forced to keep her hand over her brows for the last several minutes to block out what he was doing to the woman on the table in front of her. But it was difficult to block out the various grunts and groans.

"Do we have to just sit here through _this_ ," she hissed at him. "I thought this was a celebration."

Despite the uproar, she heard his snort clearly. "That is precisely what they are doing, Sarah. I told you this was no dinner banquet. Given the state of things, I wouldn't expect it to last much longer. But we have to wait to be dismissed. This is in our honor."

She groaned and dropped her face into her hands, deciding that this was the absolute _last_ social event she'd be attending.

"Madam _Aries_ ," a familiar voice purred, and Sarah pulled her face from her hands to see that the Council member who'd invited them to this farce of a dinner party had slid into the chair in front of her.

"I wonder if we could have a word. In private."


	17. Chapter 17

The hand on Sarah's thigh squeezed in warning. She glanced sideways at Jareth; she hadn't even noticed he'd placed it there, but his look made it clear he had no intention of moving it or leaving her alone with the Council member.

Despite how anxious she was to escape the "festivities," she agreed that any request from the Council to speak in private spelled warning. She turned back to the member with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not sure what you would need to discuss that wouldn't involve Jareth. He was the one who figured out how to fix my world." She gestured to the crowd with a grimace, trying her best to ignore the enthusiastic couple on the table in front of her. "And I've been told we can't leave anyway until we're dismissed."

The Council member looked vaguely annoyed, clenching his lips tight. Perhaps he hadn't expected her to reject his request? From what Sarah gathered, and as Jareth warned, they were very used to getting their way. Sarah leaned back in her chair with crossed arms; his irritation was strangely empowering.

"Perhaps as our host, you can arrange that?" She continued, given the member had failed to respond.

Her ask seemed to pull his confidence back. Without a word to her, he sent Jareth a pitying grin. "Having some difficulties, are we?"

The hand on her thigh clenched again and Sarah glanced at Jareth just in time to see his eyes narrow. Whatever the Council member was referencing had to be serious; Jareth had been surprisingly good about keeping calm during their dinners.

"No," Jareth said sharply.

The glee on the member's face was a stark change as he looked back to Sarah. "Then I can assure you, Madam Aries, that should you wish to be dismissed, you need only ask Jareth to… _assist_."

Before Sarah could ask either fey what that meant, she heard Jareth growl deep in the back of his throat.

"We will be waiting for my father's dismissal."

"Really." The Council member kept his grin as he snorted. His subsequent glance to Jareth was drenched in amusement. "From what I've heard, you didn't wait very long when she wished herself to you. Don't tell me you've already lost interest."

Sarah had heard enough innuendo to understand what the Council member was referencing. Honestly, after seeing the evolution of affairs in the hall, she should have realized what was expected to happen. She was the guest of honor, after all. Crude as it was, she was quickly learning that fey modesties were vastly different from her own.

Fortunately, she had an out that was certain to drop the issue. She knew the Council consorted with human women; they surely knew of their reproductive systems.

"I can assure _you,"_ Sarah cut in, throwing his phrase back at him, "that is not the case." To prove her point, she moved the hand nearest Jareth to the back of his neck and threaded it through a strand of hair. "I'm afraid the wait is purely biological. I wouldn't want to bleed all over the dinner table."

Sarah heard Jareth choke on air beside her, but he quickly caught himself. She held her pointed gaze on the Council member.

"Is that so?" He questioned, still grinning. "We of course wouldn't want that." He stood then, the hint of something glinting in his eyes. "Our private conversation can wait. You've been very enlightening."

When Sarah was confident he'd left their earshot, she breathed heavy out of her nose and brought the hand on Jareth's neck up to her temple. "What an asshole." She turned to thank Jareth for rebuffing the Council member's suggestions, but he was staring at the member's retreating back with an obvious frown.

"What's wrong?" His look was surprising; she thought she'd handled the member's insinuation exceptionally well.

He didn't answer immediately, glancing quickly at her before returning his eyes to follow the member's path back to his seat. "I've not known Corvin to abandon his pursuits so easily. It was clear he wished to discuss something with you." Jareth grimaced deeper when he saw Corvin whisper something into his father's ear. "And while successful, I did not find your justification particularly enlightening."

She grinned. "No, I bet he was just uncomfortable. Some things are the same everywhere." She paused, lowering her voice and leaning in. "Thanks for not, you know," she gestured meaningfully back and forth between them. "With all _this_ ," she said, waving her hand back at the chaos, "I should have realized that's why we hadn't been dismissed yet."

He nodded sharply before quirking a corner of his lips. "It certainly would have been quicker, but I had no doubt you weren't looking for such an escape route." He leaned closer, grinning into her ear. "Despite how thrilled you would have made Ariella."

"No," she laughed when he pulled back, shaking her head in agreement. "If that's my alternative, I'll wait for your father's dismissal." She figured it couldn't possibly be much longer. The hall had started to clear when the wine decanters had been drained. Now, even the crowd of those who had stayed to enjoy themselves had thinned, likely having taken their partners to more comfortable locations.

Almost on cue, the rumbling of a throat being cleared echoed behind her. Sarah turned to see that the High King had stood and appeared to be surveying the hall. After several sweeps, his gaze locked on them both and he beckoned them up with a finger.

Sarah wasted no time in jumping from her chair, practically pulling Jareth up with her. She heard him snort at her haste but he offered no comment. She leaned in to the protective arm he curled back around her waist.

"It has been brought to my attention that you do not intend to engage further tonight." Like all his statements to them, it was not phrased as a question. Still, the High King's crossed arms and prying look urged an explanation.

Despite the madness of the evening, the influx of ridiculously inappropriate questions had helped instill Sarah with enough confidence to defend against the High King's inquisition. She'd take the skill. It appeared bold fey natures were something she'd have to get used to. Quickly.

She squeezed Jareth's hand on her hip to reassure him she could handle it before she lowered into a curtsy.

"Thank you, Your Highness, for your generous celebration," she said with as much sincerity as she could muster. "I regret my unfortunate timing, but I didn't think it proper to damage the beautiful settings you've arranged."

The settings, of course, were well-beyond ruined from the activities of the other guests, but Sarah didn't think that mattered. The High King had obviously been irritated by Jareth's haste – likely even with his choice of bride– but he had still hosted them, as most fathers would. Despite being fey, Sarah figured what he wanted most from the evening was a bit of praise for his efforts.

The High King's softening expression indicated she'd chosen the right tactic. Sarah smiled as she stood straight. As she suspected, Jareth had gotten his ego from his father.

"Understandable, of course." The High King nodded quickly, as if her excuse was an everyday occurrence Underground. She highly doubted it was, given what she'd been told of fey infertility, but she kept her smile true as he waved them out.

Jareth took the lead this time, ushering her down and out the hall until they were well clear of the door.

"You're better at this than you know," he mumbled into her ear after they'd turned onto their own corridor. "He's nearly impossible to charm."

"I'm learning," she agreed, "but your father was likely my only success. None of the men spoke to me and my unwillingness to share _secrets_ ," she air quoted, rolling her eyes, "clearly put off the women. And I know I've made no friends in the Council."

The mention brought the frown back to Jareth's face. "No. It's clear they have an agenda that sways far from congratulation. Corvin was less than hospitable when he approached."

She sighed, turning towards him when they reached their carved door. "I can't figure out what the point of throwing that all was. Seems like a lot of unnecessary effort if Corvin just wanted to talk with me. And then he didn't even push the issue. Do you think they were just trying to catch us off-guard? See if we'd slip and say something stupid?"

Jareth shook his head as he pushed the open the door, but didn't say anything until he shut it behind them. "I would have considered that if he hadn't sought to speak privately with you. He wants something else." He unclasped his cloak before continuing. "And given he reiterated that clear intention even as he left, I have no doubt he'll attempt to corner you alone again. I'd suggest you not give him that chance."

Sarah agreed with his assessment. Given their accommodations, however, she wasn't particularly worried about that possibility. "Unless there's another part of this celebration that you haven't told me about, I hadn't planned on leaving here until we're allowed to go home tomorrow morning," she said, fighting a yawn. She'd held it together for the event, but it had been a long, trying evening. "Or this morning. Whenever it is."

"Morning, assuredly," he confirmed with a grin, sitting on the front edge of the bed to unlace his breastplate again. She likely hadn't realized what she'd said, but he'd relish the thought that her subconscious already thought of his castle as 'home'. "And no, there is nothing further to attend."

"Thank God," she exclaimed, shaking her head. She spent several seconds scanning the room again, but as before, there were no obvious places to look for sleepwear. She groaned. Sleeping in the dress it was, then. She sat down on the bed beside him to start unlacing her boots.

"I get that this is supposed to be the marriage bed and all, but it's ridiculous to not even provide _something_ to change into." She rolled her eyes again, pulling off the first boot.

He eyed her sideways before standing to set his winged breastplate at the foot of the bed. "As you should have now realized, fey modesties are quite different from your own. I doubt they even considered you'd wish to sleep in something."

Sarah stopped unlacing, snapping her eyes up when she'd processed what he meant. He'd said _you;_ not we. But when she - carefully - glanced back, he had already settled himself back against the pillows in his shirt and pants. At his raised eyebrow, she quickly turned back to her boot. He obviously knew why she'd checked.

Jareth watched as she settled back onto her side of the bed, fluffing the pillow and wincing as the leather screeched when she laid down on her back. He rolled on his side and propped himself up an elbow. He wasn't sure how she'd fallen asleep at all earlier; he thought she looked terribly uncomfortable with the mess of laces digging into her back.

He breathed once out of his nose and pulled himself up. And before Sarah could process the slipping sound of fabric on skin, something had been thrown over her side.

"It'll be big, but I assure you it's more comfortable than leather."

Sarah opened her eyes and sat up quickly when she realized he'd given her his long black shirt. She could tell without even putting it on that he was right; the silky fabric would give as she moved and had no laces to cut awkwardly into her sides. She held it up, thinking it would also be plenty long on her small frame.

Despite the fact she'd have to change out of her dress, she agreed it was much better sleeping attire.

"Determined to get me out of my dress?" she asked, turning to him with a small smile so he'd know she wasn't angry.

The smile didn't last long.

She really should have thought before turning so quickly. Prepared herself, at least. She knew she was attracted to him _with_ his shirt on, but the sight of him leaning on his side, elbow propping up nothing but a fierce expression and lean chest was almost sinful; _was_ sinful. From holding on to him, she'd known he was lithe, but seeing the lightly chiseled covered only by his horned pendant and line of pale blond hair trailing downwards tore at her understanding and chipped away at her insecurity.

_Dear God._ And she swallowed hard when she looked back into his eyes. _I want him._

It was obvious he knew what she was thinking. Sarah could feel herself flush, so there was no way he didn't notice the desire on her face. But he didn't do anything but stare for what felt like minutes.

Sarah finally jumped from the bed before she lost her last bit of resolve, still holding his shirt. The pacing came without warning.

She couldn't _possibly_ want him that way. She barely knew him. He teased and toyed with her, stole her and her time away, and…and…

"Sarah," he said softly.

She froze and looked at him. He had sat up again, crossing his legs out in front of him at the ankles. The change in position only gave her a better view of his chest.

His gaze on her didn't waver. "Tell me what you're thinking."

She _knew_ what he was thinking. He'd made his physical interest in her clear with his impassioned kisses and dark eyes. But she was struggling with her incomprehensible thoughts. She had conceded her attraction, but this strained to fit into that excuse.

"I…I can't _possibly._ I barely...," she trailed off. "With _you_." She knew her sputtering made no sense, but still, she saw him breathe out in understanding.

"This is new for you."

"Yes," she whispered, flushing deeper. It had to be obvious with how poorly she was handling herself. She thought she'd made it clear earlier, but she supposed she hadn't come out and explicitly said she was a virgin.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of, Sarah, but I'm realizing now why the guests caught you so off-guard."

She nodded, still flushed.

"Then let me emphasize how exceptionally well you handled yourself. You are, as you've said," and he grinned slightly, "a very good actress."

"Hardly," she replied, but his throw back to her first excuse calmed some of her nerves. She swallowed again. "I'm just very good at dodging inappropriate questions." She sighed and rubbed at her eyes. "I'm sorry to spring this on you. I probably should have told you before I accepted your proposal, but I didn't think…"

"Sarah," he cut her off softly. "You must know my offer would have remained the same."

She nodded immediately; she knew he hadn't forgotten the poem. "Still, it seems like something I should have mentioned." She gave him a slim smile. "You'd have at least understood why I kept flushing bright red."

He flashed her a sly grin. "Yes, I'd agree my speculation on that matter is over. You've made yourself quite clear." He patted the bed. "This is certainly not the place to address it further, however. I truly only gave you my shirt to help you sleep."

Sarah realized she was still holding onto his shirt tightly. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten the whole reason she'd lost her cool. She frowned, looking over her shoulder to see where the laces up her front and around her back ended. A quick reach of her arm confirmed her problem.

Magic had made putting on the dress simple, but it looked like she was going to need a hand in the High King's castle.

A hand returned to rub at her eyes. "You're going to find this amusing, but I need you to undo the ties on the back of this dress." She gave him a pointed look. "It's not designed to be worn without having magic."

He grinned, waving her over. "Another benefit of this castle."

Sarah rolled her eyes, but walked over. She knew now he was just teasing her again. She pulled her hair forward when she stopped in front of his side of the bed.

"I don't know how you managed to fall asleep in this earlier," he chuckled, pulling sharply at a knot.

She held the top of the dress as he pulled out the rows of laces, watching him carefully. "I was tired. You remember what happened last night."

His eyes flicked to hers. "Vividly." But he moved back to her laces without another grin. It didn't take him long to undo the rest. Sarah felt the leather sag when he'd finished and she pulled it up tighter. He smiled into her neck. "What now?"

"Could you," she swallowed, "just hold it there for a second? I think I can slide your shirt over it."

The pressure on her ribcage increased and she quickly stuffed her head and arms through the black shirt she'd been holding. He didn't wait for her signal to let go, but she was pretty sure she'd dragged down the shirt in time. She turned as she stepped out of it, picking it up where it'd pooled on the floor.

"Thanks," she offered, picking at a corner of his shirt. "You were right; this is much better." And it was long enough to pass as a nightshirt without seeming obscene. The spicy scent she attributed to Jareth was an added perk.

The dress was added to the mass of finery at the end of the bed as she slid back into her side. Jareth noted with some delight that she didn't focus on leaving the wide gap between them.

"Good night," she offered quietly, curling on her side.

Jareth couldn't help his grin. "Good night, Sarah."

* * *

Nature called sometime early that morning, rousing Sarah from what had been an exceptionally pleasant dream. She glanced quickly at Jareth, but he was clearly sound asleep, and she didn't think to bother him as she slid out of the bed and padded across the room to the door. The washroom was just across the hall.

She pulled down her shirt as she opened the door, just to make sure she wouldn't give any passerby a surprise, but the hallway was silent and nature was answered soon after.

She also didn't think to check the hallway on her way out.

"Madam Aries, what a pleasant surprise."

Sarah jumped, twisting her head to find Corvin leaning against the hallway watching the washroom door. He couldn't have been there when she'd entered.

"Corvin," she offered loudly, pulling at her shirt again and looking across the hall. Perhaps that'd wake Jareth.

"I realize the timing is odd, but I do think you'll want to hear what I have to say. I've heard some _fascinating_ things about you."

Sarah didn't at all like how he'd purred the statement. The women she'd rebuffed earlier had likely been telling stories, but she'd told them nothing fascinating. She'd really told them _nothing._ "I'm afraid this really isn't a good time. Perhaps you can visit us later?" She moved to exit the washroom, but in an instant, he'd blocked himself before her.

"I don't think that'd be a wise move for your dwarf companion. Hoggle, was it?"

Sarah froze and found his gleaming eyes. "What did you do?" She hissed.

"Nothing yet. I'm hopeful we can have our chat and I won't have to do anything but let him go. But of course," he grinned and Sarah winced, "that's up to you."

Sarah realized then why she'd been invited to this farce of a party in a castle where she couldn't cast magic; Corvin knew she couldn't magic her way out.


	18. Chapter 18

There were a thousand things Sarah would have rather said: 'Fuck off' and 'Go to hell' sprang to the top of the list. But she didn't have the luxury of an upper-hand to say what she wished; not if he was holding Hoggle.

"What do you want?" She grit out, still hovering in the washroom doorway. Her arms couldn't have crossed any tighter.

"Just to chat," he repeated. His expression suggested he had far more than easy conversation in mind, however.

Sarah frowned. "You've got my attention."

Corvin sent her an odd grin. "This is hardly the place for proper discussion. I'm certain you'd be more," and he looked her up and down, " _comfortable_ in a more private setting."

Sarah pulled down her shirt again when his eyes settled at its ends. The last thing she wanted was to go anywhere alone with Corvin. The fact that she couldn't do magic in this castle only added fervency to that resistance. "I'm plenty comfortable right here."

She could at least scream for Jareth if Corvin tried something particularly vile.

"I doubt that," he chuckled, "but if you'd prefer to discuss your old magic in the public of the High King's hallway, I will hardly stop you."

Sarah froze. The situation was much worse than she'd originally thought. Rule number one had always been _not_ to let the fey know she had old magic. But somehow, the absolute worst members of that community had found out.

She just didn't know how _._

Hoggle wasn't known for standing up to authority figures, but there was no way he would have sought _out_ the Council to expose her. Someone else must have informed them that he knew something. Perhaps someone overheard their conversation? It was, she supposed, possible. There were several other houses in the grove. And, as she grimaced, she remembered she'd left his front door open.

"No bursts of denial? Abject confusion?" The grin weaved into Corvin's questions slithered down Sarah's spine.

She knew denial was pointless; his comment had been too specific. "You wouldn't raise it unless you'd heard something. I'm not stupid."

He snorted. Sarah suspected he thought she was the worst excuse for a human there was, given how she'd failed to guard her pivotal secret. She didn't have time to argue the point; he'd gotten to Hoggle, and she wouldn't let Corvin harm him just because she'd been chatty. She needed to remove him from the equation.

Sarah took a long breath. "If you release Hoggle, I'll talk wherever you want."

"Ah, Madam Aries," he tutted, "I'll be the one making the deals. You'll come with me and I'll release him if you answer my questions to my satisfaction."

He had her trapped. She _knew_ he knew it; she couldn't stop her face from twisting into an obvious mix of agonized fury. But she said nothing, nodding with icy eyes and pursed lips as she followed him as he turned back down the hall.

* * *

Sarah had been wrong about something else: Jareth hadn't been sound asleep.

He'd felt the bed shift when she edged out of it and carefully padded across to the door. He'd rightfully assumed she needed the washroom. He hadn't thought much of it.

Not until she didn't come back.

He had the good sense to know she'd been gone too long. But given what she'd just revealed to him – on top of her having become his queen - he couldn't fathom she'd try and run away.

He jumped from the bed, not even caring that he was dressed only in pants. The door was opened without another thought. But the hallway was eerily silent and the washroom empty.

Could she have seen someone or _something_ suspicious and gone to investigate? Gotten curious about the castle? Jareth dismissed both thoughts quickly; knowing her modesty, it didn't seem likely that she'd choose to wander the hallways in just his shirt.

Which left only one probability: the Council. Corvin had been clear about his desire to speak with her alone; he must have seen his chance and taken it.

The growl in Jareth's throat barely described his rage. He wasn't angry; he was _livid_. He'd undoubtedly done enough to earn their ire, but Sarah had done nothing more than tie herself to him.

_Unless…_

He grimaced. Unless she hadn't done enough. The Above hadn't returned to normal when they'd arrived and he suspected it hadn't yet righted itself. There would have been no reason to target her if it had.

Jareth ground his teeth together, realizing the gravity of the situation. If the Council was still convinced that Sarah was causing the disruption Above, he needed to find her immediately.

If they so much as _nicked_ her, it would be the last mistake they ever made.

Jareth glanced down both directions of the hall, but there was nothing to indicate which way she would have gone. If he had been anywhere else, he could have conjured a crystal to find her. But this castle suffocated his magic.

He needed to find Arlyck. If anyone knew where Corvin might be, it'd be him.

Despite not having resided in it for some time, Jareth knew the castle well. His father and Arlyck had rooms on the upper wing to the east. If Arlyck had remained overnight, that was likely where he'd find him.

The hallways should have stung against his bare feet but Jareth didn't notice the chill, taking the stone stairs two at a time and pounding down the hall where he knew he'd find Arlyck's door. It was likely he'd sped past several guards on his way, but no one tried to stop him. Perhaps they'd known it would've been futile.

Or perhaps they'd been too startled to process anything other than the sight of the barely-dressed son of the High King charging through the castle.

The pounding only intensified when Jareth reached Arlyck's door, bolstered by the steady echo off rich wood.

" _Arlyck!"_ Jareth roared, drumming at the small familiar sigil on Arlyck's door. "If you had any part in this, so help me…"

"Jareth?"

Jareth didn't ease up, but turned his head to quickly growl at his father. " _Where is he_?"

The High King emerged from his room down the hall, wrapped in a long golden robe that clashed violently with his corn-silk hair. His face shifted into a mix of irritated confusion when he noticed his son's state of undress. "What is the meaning of this?"

Realizing Arlyck wouldn't be answering, Jareth growled again and dropped his hand. He spun to glare at his father and charged forward, not caring what repercussions might follow. "Sarah is missing. Your deranged Council _took_ her."

Jareth stopped inches before the High King and grabbed hold of his shoulders. Long fingers curled into cloth and skin. " _Where. Would. They. Be_?"

Even if the High King hadn't been listening closely, the twisting of Jareth's face and force of his grip made his ire undeniable. Immediately, he could say nothing. Jareth had always kept a close guard on his emotions and while he'd seen him angry before, this was a new sort of fury; one that had churned Jareth's careful ease into unabashed rage.

The instinctive condemnation of his son's accusation was brushed aside.

"Arlyck left some time ago," the High King answered, frowning as Jareth's gaze intensified. "How do you know she was taken?"

Jareth released his grip. "Corvin was adamant on speaking to her in private when he approached us earlier. Sarah declined, but he made it clear he would seek her out again. She left my sight for several minutes and now is gone."

The High King said nothing, but Jareth could tell he had something on his mind. Mismatched eyes narrowed. "What do you know."

"No more than you," he replied. "Like the rest of the Council, Corvin has been convinced she was causing the problem Above. He was the one who demanded her prior to that apex." His expression then settled into one of deep thought. "But that was before your union. He knows better than to steal away my son's queen."

" _Fuck_ ," Jareth growled to himself. As expected, his father was of absolutely no assistance. Arlyck might appear just as loyal but he at least didn't fall for the Council's every word.

He still needed to track him down.

Jareth rubbed at his eyes before focusing them back on his father. "How long ago did Arlyck leave? Did he say where he was headed?"

"Not long ago," the High King confirmed slowly, "and no, he did not say." He crossed his arms, clearly skeptical of Jareth's theory. "Is there a reason Corvin would want to speak with her alone?"

"No," Jareth grit out, "but I do not think he took her to speak with her." His ensuing glare made no doubt as to what he assumed Corvin's plan to be.

Now the High King's eyes thinned. "You made it clear you had solved the Above."

Jareth couldn't stop himself from wincing. It was a legitimate inquiry. If the Above was fixed, why would Corvin proceed with his plan?

It would do little good to tell the truth he decided, but even less to lie. If his father believed Sarah was in danger, there was the possibility he'd do something about it. A slim possibility, certainly, but even his father seemed to have recognized how their union changed the situation.

"It is… _possible_ that it has not been solved completely," Jareth started, shifting. "I am hopeful the pace will pick up on its own, but the Above was running slow last I observed."

The High King exhaled sharply through his nose. "She made a scene in one of my gatherings on a _hope_?" His frown returned. "No wonder Corvin wanted to speak with her alone. I suspect the entire Council has words for her."

Jareth held his grimace, knowing he could say nothing to sway his father now. If the High King was convinced Sarah had wronged his Council, Jareth was on his own.

"I do not know why you are so concerned," the High King continued. "She bound herself to you and has access to your magic." He waved a hand. "You would know if something was wrong."

Jareth's eyes widened in realization. Not in response to his father's presumption, however; there was no way to explain why he couldn't reach Sarah in the usual manner that consummated bindings allowed.

But he hadn't left her with nothing.

He _would_ know if harm came to Sarah; he had pledged himself to protect against it. He just wasn't certain he'd be able to find her to stop it. He had never attempted such an oath before. While the symbol on her hand made it clear the promise took, the bounds of its power were unclear.

Still, for the moment Sarah appeared uninjured. It was a small relief that did nothing to calm him. Sarah was fierce, but if the entire Council followed Corvin's lead, she'd be outnumbered. He didn't trust Corvin to wait long to try something and even with her mag—he stopped mid-thought.

It was almost unthinkable. Corvin couldn't possibly know about her old magic, could he?

But the more he considered it, the more Corvin's sudden interest in sequestering Sarah made sense. The Council would not hesitate to snatch her if they thought she was the cause of the shifts _and_ possessed old magic. The farce of a celebration fit the scheme perfectly; keeping them here, in this castle replete with iron, would ensure she couldn't defend herself with her magic. It made far more sense than a sudden swell of 'congratulation'.

It would appear he'd vastly underestimated Corvin's ability to decipher riddles.

"She's here somewhere," Jareth murmured to himself, ignoring his father's questioning glance. If Corvin knew about her old magic, he wouldn't risk taking her somewhere where she could cast it. The Council was many things, but they weren't spontaneous; this move was planned to ensure they'd have the advantage.

With one last grimace directed at his father, and without bothering to bow, he turned and ran back down the staircase. He knew this castle. There were only so many places where they'd be able to conceal her from curious eyes.

* * *

Corvin didn't turn once as he led Sarah down the halls. He'd obviously believed his threat severe enough to trust she wouldn't try escaping. She certainly _thought_ about it. But until she extricated Hoggle from the bargain, she refused to flee.

Not unless and until she had a plan, at least.

They hadn't left the castle. Sarah had kept a watchful eye on the path they took in case the opportunity eventually arose to escape. Down several flights of stairs and through several more hallways, she assumed he was taking her to some sort of basement. Perhaps a dungeon. She grimaced. It would be a fitting place to keep Hoggle captive.

And it would likely be saturated with iron.

"I suppose you're holding him in a dungeon?" She asked the back of his head when they descended another staircase. Corvin didn't so much as twitch in response. "Seems a bit cliché, even for you."

It probably wasn't the wisest thing to do, trying to goad Corvin into spilling a key to his plan, but she didn't have another strategy. Jareth had been clear that her magic was no good here, so she'd have to rely on words to outwit the Council. The tricky part was figuring out Corvin's weak spot. She knew he wouldn't be charmed in the same manner as the High King.

"You must be afraid to speak to me in the open."

Corvin stopped suddenly. For a moment, Sarah thought he'd turn. But with barely more than a snarl, he resumed his prowl, charging faster down the dark hall than before. Sarah couldn't help but grin; her remark had clearly bothered him.

The barred metal door they stopped at came as no surprise. Corvin made a show of shoving it open with his shoulder, but she could see him wincing slightly after he'd stepped through.

_Hoggle!_

She ran towards his hunched figure in the back corner on instinct, only jumping back when her hands wrapped around the burning bars containing him.

" _Fuck,_ " she yelped, shaking out her hands. She didn't need to look at her palms to know they were raw and red; they pulsed as if she'd grabbed hold of hot coals.

"S-Sarah?" At her curse, the figure behind the bars pulled his head from his lap. He leapt from the floor. "I didn' say nothin'! Don' tell him—"

"Quiet, dwarf. I've heard enough from your neighbor." Corvin strode past the cell without looking at Hoggle and moved to open another door. He fixed a pointed glance at Sarah before walking through it.

"I'll get you out of here," Sarah whispered, giving Hoggle a fierce expression in the hope it'd ease his concerns over her. He didn't reply as she followed Corvin through the door.

She wasn't surprised to see the rest of the Council was already inside. A quick count let her know all five members were present. It was confirmation was she vastly outnumbered. She scowled, but waited for the Council to say something and possibly tip its hand.

"So glad you could join us, Madam Aries." The nasally voice that she now recognized well feigned welcome.

"And in such a… _suiting_ outfit," a darker voice at the table's end added.

_Like I had a choice._ Sarah remained silent as she pulled down her shirt. For the moment, she was convinced saying nothing was the wisest move. No chairs had been placed before the table the Council members sat behind, so Sarah stood several feet away; close enough to hear, but with a good lead on the exit if she needed to make a run for it.

"I feel obligated to tell you," Corvin continued after he sat down, "you did us a great service in presenting yourself here. I had my suspicions after that dwarf sought us out, but it was much easier to have you confirm your status." The sickening grin seeped back into his words. "Much more satisfying, as well."

Sarah stood steady despite her swelling panic. She hadn't confirmed _anything_ about having old magic at the gathering. She'd been clear about them having solved the Above, but only based on her ruling and remaining. None of that, however, had been mentioned to Hoggle.

She narrowed her eyes to match her pursed lips. If Corvin was itching to tell her how she'd shared a secret in her speech at the gathering, she wasn't going to offer anything else. Clearly, he knew more than he was letting on, but she didn't want to reveal everything without knowing how much.

Corvin chuckled. "Now you've decided silence is wise." He sent her a similar pitying grin to the one he'd sent Jareth earlier. "A shame for you that we already know all we need."

"Then why am I here to answer questions?" Sarah couldn't stop herself from sniping back.

The figure to Corvin's right growled. "You have some nerve, girl. After all the trouble you've caused, I would think you'd be on your knees, groveling." He too smiled a painful grin. "We have been known to show mercy."

Sarah raised an eyebrow but held in her scoff. The Council's definition of 'mercy' undoubtedly fell closer to punishment. She knew how they'd treated Jareth.

Corvin took her latest silence as his cue to begin his inquiries. "We'd been told you had old magic but had not considered you were the subject of the poem until your earlier admission. Our evening was thereafter spent deciphering your prophecy." Long-boned fingers curled up at his chin. "So tell me, Madam Aries, how you came to realize _you_ were the Aries the entire prophecy was based around?"

Sarah frowned. That hadn't exactly been what she'd realized. She certainly had the weapon of old magic and Time restarted once she accepted that she had to rule and remain, but she'd called no war and had no plans to do so anytime soon. The first part had to be referencing another 'Aries'.

"I didn't," she replied, "because I'm _not_. As I would have told you earlier if you'd asked, I have no intention of bringing war or calling a match I'd be certain to lose." She tightened her arms across her chest. "You've seen the goblin army, I'm sure."

Corvin's grin returned. "Don't tell me after your grand announcement that _you_ haven't figured it out? I'd thought that's why you agreed to it." Corvin snorted as his cohorts snickered around him. "How delightful."

Sarah shifted uncomfortably at the viciousness imbued in their laughs. "If you find it so amusing, why don't you fill me in," she grit out.

Corvin sneered at her before gesturing to the member on his right. In response, the member pulled a familiar looking text up from his lap and passed it towards Corvin. Pages were turned quickly.

" _A challenge once to be won, but the match not to be conquered_ ," Corvin read and Sarah recognized it as a line in the first section. After he'd finished, he looked back at her with his sneer. "That doesn't recall memories from your first visit to the Underground. Of the challenge you _won_?"

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she realized what Corvin was suggesting. She _had_ won a challenge; it was the whole reason she was in this mess. Not only that, Jareth had said she'd been the only one to do so: the 'challenge _once_ to be won.' But he couldn't be implying her victory had started a _war_. She knew Jareth would have told her if she had. Plus, when she'd wondered if she could be _that_ Aries, he'd discounted it immediately.

"I may have won a challenge, but I didn't start a war," she objected, confident in at least that much. "And as I said, I have no intention of starting one. "

"That's not what the first line says," he countered, looking back down at the book. " _When Aries calls its match, the lines of war will be drawn and broken_."

Sarah narrowed her eyes. She'd read it many times now; she knew what it said. Hearing it again added nothing to her denial.

Corvin shook his head and closed the book, but his subsequent tilt back in his chair indicated he was comfortable with her silence. "Then as it seems you've no idea what the prophecy predicts, let me be the one to enlighten you," he purred, tossing the text down. "It really should have been clear once you decided you were Aries, but humans are such shortsighted creatures."

Sarah just crossed her arms, knowing this was not the point to argue.

After a long eerie pause, he began again. "You _have_ called a match. I doubt you wished yourself away to him as Jareth insinuated at dinner, but you at least had to call him in order to run the Labyrinth." His sneer engulfed his face. "It is fitting, of course, that the two thorns in my side would be _matched_."

Sarah froze. He thought the match was _Jareth_? With the reference to the 'lines of war,' she hadn't even considered the match could mean something besides a battle.

"We suspected you'd realized as much, given your sudden binding and your pathetic reading of the middle lines." He snorted again, calling Sarah's attention back. She only scowled.

He pressed forward. "You know, of course, that we originally suspected the reference to Aries reaching an apex meant our window of time to kill you—and therefore prevent the situation Above from remaining—was running thin."

Sarah caught his use of the past tense, but it didn't make much sense. From every sneer and pitying grin, she'd been able to tell he still despised her. There was little chance the Council didn't still want her harmed.

Corvin continued when her frown didn't shift. "You suspected it meant something else; something that required _you_ to rule. I am confident our elders meant no such slight on our ways. A girl from Above would have never been emphasized in that manner."

"Time restarted after I accepted the throne," she cut in, realizing this was the time to convince him of her necessity.

Corvin scowled at her and brought the front legs of his chair back to the floor. "The issue was not _fixed_. Given the lag, I would barely claim it restarted. Such proves the fallacy of your presumption." He tilted his head, the confidence returning to his expression. "There is however, a rule exceedingly more important that would require emphasis: the Labyrinth's. And Jareth broke it when he tampered with Its hours. You didn't reach the rule's apex of thirteen, but we're not going to give you another opportunity to try."

The insistence in Corvin's pledge sent another chill down Sarah's back. His reading of the line may have changed, but his new plan ended the same and made just as little sense. He thought she wanted her world to remain frozen? That she would run the Labyrinth again just to ensure it? He couldn't possibly believe that.

"You can't possibly think I want my world to remain slow."

"Given your deception thus far, I'm sure you understand why we don't believe you." Corvin waved his hand. "In any case, your possession of old magic is not in dispute. We will be returning it to the Labyrinth."

_Fuck_.

Sarah made a subtle glance behind her. Given the plainness of his intentions, she needed to leave. She still had to find a way to get Hoggle out first, though.

"You promised to release Hoggle if I answered your questions. Despite you not believing me, I've told you what I know."

"Doubtful," Corvin scoffed, "and you knew far less than expected. I dare say I answered more questions than you."

"Hoggle has _nothing_ to do with this."

"Perhaps not, but I'd rather not have him telling stories. We do have perceptions to keep."

Sarah grit her teeth. The Council was as despicable as expected. Still, if she had any chance of springing Hoggle, she'd have to hold her tongue. Her plan required an assumption of submissiveness.

"At least let me say good-bye, then. Even prisoners get last requests."

Her plea seemed to amuse him; she saw his otherwise sneering lips twitch into something strange. He stood without speaking and gestured back towards the door.

Sarah was in front of Hoggle's cage in an instant. She kneeled down, not caring how the cement scuffed at her knees. She'd learned not to touch the bars. "When I give you the signal, _run,"_ she hissed so only he could hear.

"What signal?" He whispered back, swallowing hard as he watched Corvin follow through the door.

"You'll know."

Hoggle just grimaced. Sarah spun back to see Corvin eying her with more disgust. "A proper good-bye would include the chance to hug him. He was my first friend here."

He rolled his eyes and scoffed again, obviously not understanding why she'd befriended a dwarf. Fortunately for her plan, however, he dragged a set of keys from his pants pocket. A tarnished silver one was jammed into the lock seconds later.

That was precisely when Sarah made her move, ramming her shoulder into Corvin so he fell into the iron bars. She held him down when he fell back to the floor, momentarily stunned

"Go!" Sarah yelled.

Hoggle took the cue and ran through the unlocked door but turned back at the bottom of the staircase. "Sarah—"

"Go and find help, Hoggle. _Fast_."

* * *


	19. Chapter 19

_Earlier that evening._

It was absurd. Uncommonly foolish too, given his position. But he'd known something was off when the Council had remained at the High King's table long after the king had left, mumbling hurriedly amongst themselves.

The decanters were empty and the trays of food cleared. He was one of the last guests in the Hall, pinned to his seat only out of duty and in the unlikely event they'd need him. But they hadn't once looked his way and there seemed no obvious reason for them remaining as the night deepened and a new day began; they had no rooms here.

Eventually, Corvin must have said something significant because the rest of the Council snapped back in their seats and looked at him, nodding. Corvin had then thrust his own chair back and stood, a familiar sneer overtaking his cool expression. The rest of the Council watched him closely as he left the Hall. Alone.

So Arlyck did what any curious observer would: he followed him.

It wasn't difficult, at first. He'd had a good position in the Hall to watch them surreptitiously all evening: far from their table and steps from the door. The rest of the Council had already turned inwards to ruminate again and Corvin didn't bother to shut the door on his way out, making Arlyck's slip out of the Hall unnoticed.

Arlyck paused just outside to track where he'd went. Corvin was mumbling to himself, shaking his head as he strode down the hallway to his right. If he'd been closer, it might have meant something, but it was unintelligible. Something about a weapon? Breaking a rule? Arlyck looked back once to make sure he hadn't been followed, then picked up his pace.

Corvin turned down another corridor then stopped suddenly, throwing open a door to his right and charging through. The door was slammed behind him. The echo of boots descending stone stairs still rang through the wood.

Arlyck hesitated, then decided not to follow. He knew exactly where the door led. If Corvin was detaining someone in the dungeon, he had no desire to barge in on an interrogation. Or worse.

Still, the timing sent a nervous itch down his back, so he pressed tight up against the door in the hope that he'd hear something assuredly mild—perhaps someone had snuck into the celebration uninvited? There was another voice. Several it seemed, from the low grunts that cut against each other. They were too low to have been Corvin.

A jangle of metal and a heavy satisfied grunt. Then, the patter of steps on stone stairs; someone was coming up. And from the lack of reverberation, it was someone smaller than Corvin.

Arlyck jumped back from the door to lean against the wall across. He feigned boredom, picking at nonexistent lint on his jacket coat as he waited for the door to open. He was more curious than afraid; Corvin wouldn't have let someone out that was dangerous.

A stocky dwarf poked his head out the door before leaning his shoulder into it so it creaked wide open. He paid no attention to Arlyck across the hall as he weighed the small cloth bag in his hands. It jingled again.

"I hope you didn't steal that," Arlyck began, brushing off his coat and giving the dwarf a cool stare. "The High King doesn't take well to theft. And he doesn't take at all to those who steal from him."

The dwarf looked up with a grimace, the angry scar across his cheek amplifying his off-putting demeanor. His one good eye narrowed. "None yer business but I haven't stolen anythin'. I heard somethin' important."

Arlyck's chin jutted towards the bag. "And someone paid you to keep it quiet?"

The dwarf shook his head, grunting. "Someone paid me for the somethin'."

Arlyck frowned. He had no idea what information this dwarf could have heard that intrigued Corvin. From the size of the bag however, the 'something' was significant. "If it's that important, I'm sure the High King will want a direct report, then. Shall we go wake him?"

The dwarf's eyes bulged as his hand squeezed his bag, clearly unsettled by the prospect. "That's not…it's not…"

"I'd be happy to pass it along, of course," Arlyck interrupted with a small grin. "I serve the High King directly."

The dwarf glanced back at the open door quickly, but when nothing echoed from the stone steps, faced Arlyck again with a grim nod. "It's that Above girl. The one who beat the Goblin King." He looked Arlyck straight in the eye. "She got _old_ magic."

Arlyck stumbled slightly, but kept his expression mild. "Who told you this?"

"Told ye, I heard it. She was askin' neighbor for help." He took a large sniff and wiped his mouth before grinning. "Should'a asked fer a place to _hide_."

Something cold beaded down Arlyck's neck as he considered the dwarf's words. He knew Corvin's propensities well enough. If Sarah truly did possess old magic, Corvin's unsettling desire to dispose of her would have only hardened. And Arlyck only knew of one plan: killing Sarah before Aries reached its apex. Sarah had appeared confident that the Council's interpretation of the text was incorrect; the changes Above were subtle, but the timing seemed to align with her understanding. But, old magic? Arlyck grimaced. That was not something either of them had mentioned.

He needed to read the old text again. And he needed to find Jareth.

Still holding his frown, he waved the dwarf on, and watched as he hustled down the corridor with a heavy jangle. When he was sure he was gone, Arlyck ran the opposite direction, intent on grabbing his copy of the text from his room.

* * *

_Present_

Hoggle was struggling to breathe, scrambling up the dungeon steps as if his life depended on it. Which, he realized as he fell through the door, it probably did.

Jareth was a rat, but he at least never once threatened to _kill_ him.

He shook his head and stood, charging down the hall. He didn't have time to catch his breath. Sarah needed help, and he would be damned if he let her down again. But, he had no idea where he was or where to look. His abysmal sense of direction just made matters worse. Several corridors and up a fight of steps, down one more, around three corners, up another staircase…was that the same tapestry he'd seen earlier? He groaned and slammed a fist into the wall beside him. The pounding echoed down the empty hall.

"Why's there nobody _here_? _"_ He groaned again. "I needs help!"

A flash of blue ran across the gap at the end of his corridor. "Hey! _Stop_!"

Arlyck, old text in hand, paused when he heard the desperation in the call and back peddled to the opening in the hallway. Some ways down the corridor, a dwarf—from his stature, not the same one he'd met earlier—was running towards him. He didn't say a thing, but the panic on his face was evident.

Arlyck placed a steadying hand on the dwarf's shoulder when the fellow caught up to him. "What's wrong?"

"It's Sar...," Hoggle pulled in air, still gasping. "Sarah. Dungeon. Tryin' to kill her!"

Arlyck froze. He'd known Corvin had it out for Sarah, but to try something in the High King's castle—on the night of his eldest son's binding—was almost unimaginable. Treasonous. He exhaled sharply. And in that split second, Arlyck made his decision.

"Come with me. Quickly." Arlyck turned back from where he'd come, beckoning the dwarf to follow. If Corvin already had her, there wasn't much time. Finding Jareth would have to wait. "She's in the dungeons?"

" _Yes_ ," Hoggle panted. "And she's outnum'ered!"

_Damn. Corvin had persuaded others in the Council. That will make this more difficult._

"It's a good thing you found me, then. But I'm going to need your help."

Hoggle nodded. "Anythin'."

* * *

Corvin hissed when the iron bit into the side of his face, and he fell to the floor, momentarily stunned. He felt Sarah shift onto his stomach to hold him still, her hands pinning down both shoulders. But his daze was brief, and in one swift move, Corvin flipped her over, slamming her down into the stone floor as if she weighed nothing.

" _You will regret that,_ " he snarled, jamming one knee into the small of her back. He touched the side of his face and hissed again when he felt the blisters forming. " _Dearly._ "

"Thorin!" The Council member shot out from the antechamber at the sound of his name, and Corvin jutted his head towards the narrow staircase. "The dwarf escaped. Take the others and _find him._ "

"What about the gir—"

" _I'll handle the girl_ ," Corvin snarled again. Thorin hesitated briefly but nodded, and after calling the trio, the four men disappeared up the staircase.

Sarah was furiously trying to push up, but Corvin's knee just kept digging deeper into her back. She cried out as her head was suddenly yanked back by the roots of her hair.

"We _will_ find the dwarf," he growled lowly into her ear. "And then I will take great _pleasure_ as you watch us _obliterate_ him." He pulled her up, twisting one of her arms behind her back until her knees buckled at the pain. With one last snarl, Corvin shoved her into the open cell. Sarah didn't have time to turn before he had slammed and locked the door behind her. "As I will when I kill _you_."

Her glare was imbued with such hatred that she didn't need speak. And she suspected anything she said to him now would just make matters worse.

His eyes narrowed, but having apparently issued his last threat, he spun around and headed back inside the small antechamber to wait. Sarah heard him fall into one of the chairs and fiercely turn pages.

_Fucking bastard. Come on, Hoggle._

It wasn't much later that she heard the creak of a door and the quick patter of boots on steps and she froze, praying the Council hadn't found Hoggle. She only allowed herself to breathe when a familiar copper-headed fey emerged from the bottom of the staircase.

Arlyck spared a quick glance at Sarah, keeping his face blank. "Corvin? Are you down here?"

The rattle of chair legs was followed by more snarling. " _In here, Arlyck._ "

Sarah watched as Arlyck moved quickly towards the small room, arms crossed behind his back. But then, one finger jutted out behind him and towards her cell, pointing. He didn't glance anywhere near her, but Sarah turned all the same and saw…nothing. Sarah looked back to try and grab Arlyck's attention, but he had already made his way into the room with Corvin. Curious, she shuffled closer to the bars to try to hear what they were discussing, but the conversation was muffled. She had no idea what role Arlyck played in all this.

_Could he be trying to convince Corvin to let me go? I suppose it's possible, but…_

_"_ _Sarah."_ Someone whispered behind her, and she turned again. But this time, she realized what Arlyck had been gesturing towards. At the far-most left corner of her cell, one of the large stone blocks had been pushed from the wall to reveal an opening. Her eyes widened as Hoggle poked his head out of the hole, a finger over his mouth and his other hand waving her over. She silently obeyed, nodding once. Hoggle turned back to allow her room to enter.

The passage was narrow, but she thought it passable, and she didn't waste a second thought in dropping low on her knees and pulling herself through the stones. Small rocks cut into Sarah's knees and bare legs, and she bit down on her lip in pain, but didn't slow down. She couldn't see much except the back of Hoggle's shoes and she followed them as they shuffled for several minutes through the silent darkness.

The night dimmed and the passage eventually emptied into a courtyard. Sarah pulled herself out from the hole, and brushed off the small rocks that clung like nettles to her torn-up legs. She launched herself unconsciously at her friend.

"I _knew_ you'd find help, Hoggle," she cried, wrapping her arms around him in thanks. "You saved me." She pulled back to see his face redden perceptively.

"Arlyck's the one who knew 'bout the path," he mumbled. "Jus' glad I found 'im." He grabbed one of her hands and tugged. "We gots to get out of here, Sarah. Arlyck didn' know how much time he could get us. He told me where we could go hide—"

"But what about Jareth?" She cut him off. "He's still inside."

Hoggle groaned as Sarah pulled away, looking up and around the courtyard. "I've got to let him know what happened. Where we are. I don't know what Corvin will do when he realizes I've escaped." The reminder of his words struck her, and she stumbled. Corvin despised Jareth just as much as he did her, and with her out of his reach…her heart clenched. That something deep inside her stomach flipped again, and Sarah knew.

_Oh, God. When Aries calls its match...the match not be to conquered._ _A battle fought, only leading to surrender..._

Her heart was racing.

_The time to come when truth accepted._

"I know what to do, Hoggle," she whispered. A small part of her had always known. "I know how to fix this." She glanced up again at the High King's castle and breathed out once through her nose, resolute. Her first need was instinctual. A newly gloved hand flexed once, twice, and she pursed her lips. It was the second she was unsure of. Did he need to be here?

Hoggle's eyes bulged. "Sarah…?"

She suspected he did, but wished it once for good measure. The lack of dizziness confirmed it without the need for a crystal, however. He had to be here; he needed to know.

She started to turn, but hesitated. If this plan was to work, and for it to be _over_ , she needed an important witness.

"Hoggle," she started, dropping to one knee in front of him. "I need you to do me one last favor. Find the High King." He started to protest, but Sarah cut him off, shaking his shoulders. "Find anyone. Tell them to get the High King. Bring him out here to wait for me. Tell him…," and she grinned, "Tell him I'm calling my match."

"You doin' _what_ against the High King?" Hoggle was visibly shaking, not in the least calmed by the sly grin across his friend's face. " _Sarah_ —"

"Trust me, Hoggle."

His complexion turned, and although he was still trembling, he nodded once. "I trusts ya, Sarah. I'll do it."

And with one last hug, Sarah ran towards the marble steps and back into the castle, the wish tickling the depths of her mind.

* * *

Arlyck's lip twitched at the sight of Corvin's face when he entered the antechamber. Clearly, Sarah had a fair bit of fight in her.

At Corvin's glare, however, he quickly sobered. He cleared his throat. "You must realize this is a mistake, Corvin. The High King will not take kindly to having his son's queen killed—"

"That _queen_ ," he spat, the word twisting, "has old magic. I'll make him understand it was necessary." His grin sharpened. "The fool is exceedingly trusting."

A growl settled at the back of Arlyck's throat at the insult, but he held it in. Arlyck and his father had their disagreements, but Corvin had vastly overstepped his bounds when he denigrated the High King. But he had a part to play. "I would still be careful, Corvin."

Corvin just waved him off, returning his focus to the text in front of him. "Old magic aside, the prophecy cannot come to pass. She cannot be allowed to reach the Labyrinth's apex."

"Sarah has been in the Labyrinth now for far longer than thirteen hours," Arlyck started, holding up his own text. "You noticed the changes Above. It strains credulity that such would occur if what you believe is the answer."

Corvin scowled at him before he rolled his eyes and slammed his text down on the table. "Then enlighten me, Arlyck, what _wisdom_ have you gained from reading the old text?"

"I…we need to speak with Jareth."

Corvin just snorted in response.

Arlyck continued. "If Sarah truly is this 'Aries,' and she possesses old magic, as you say—"

"As I _know_."

"Then Jareth may know what this last line demands of her," he finished. "It may be something they are presently attempting to achieve. I'd at least consider asking him directly before you do something that cannot be undone."

Corvin was silent for several seconds. Dark eyes narrowed, then relaxed minutely before he growled. To Arlyck, it seemed as if he was at least considering the proposal, but the prospect of seeking Jareth's guidance kept overshadowing the positive equities. Arlyck tried something else; he just needed to stall for a bit longer.

"If it is as you believe, all you will have wasted is a single conversation." He feigned a bit of indifference. "If Jareth refuses to assist, your sway over the High King only solidifies. Try what you will then."

The heat in Corvin's stare calmed somewhat. "Very well. Where is he?"

Truthfully, Arlyck did not know. Their room had been vacant when he'd searched Jareth out, and he had first wondered if they returned to the Labyrinth. But he knew Jareth would not have left without Sarah. Not if what he now suspected was true. He was likely here, searching.

"He's a deep sleeper. Undoubtedly, he hasn't even noticed she's left their room." Arlyck bowed his head slightly while turning on his heels. "I will inform him his presence is required."

"And bring him to the girl?" Corvin tutted, scraping his chair back and standing. "I think not."

And before Arlyck could make it through the door, something heavy knocked him over the head and he knew nothing.


	20. Chapter 20

After a good twenty minutes of searching, Jareth was forced to begrudgingly admit that his recollection of his father's castle was not nearly as good as he'd thought.

The castle was immense. He knew the uppermost east wing—where his father and Arlyck kept rooms—as well as the entrance hall and several floors above. The central library had been placed between several ostentatious guest rooms and an office framed in cherry wood that he'd frequented before becoming Goblin King. And the staff kitchen was just below. His crazed entrance there was met with shattered glasses and a few scraping bows, the staff predictably shocked at the High Prince's state of undress and wild rage. But those rooms held no answers and scant trace of Sarah, Arlyck, or the Council.

After that, it was a mad dash into random rooms and onto balconies, and up and down deserted hallways and staircases. One-by-one, he ticked them off his mental blueprint of the castle. The guests had obviously departed following the feast; he found no one to question.

Jareth was running out of places to look. And with some rising panic, he wondered briefly if Sarah had been spirited _out_ of the castle. He wouldn't have thought Corvin would risk that exposure, but there were an infinite number of unknowns complicating the situation—starting with the question of just how much Corvin knew about Sarah.

Just after that was the question of whether he had realized the other truth Jareth had been hiding.

Jareth cursed. He didn't think the old text offered any insight into it, but at this point, he wasn't even sure where and from whom Corvin was getting information. He didn't believe Arlyck knew—at least, Arlyck hadn't mentioned as much—but his half-brother was perceptive. And Jareth hadn't exactly been guarded when Arlyck had visited his throne room some nights ago. He might suspect it, especially now.

If Arlyck knew, it was only a matter of time before Corvin knew. He would be sure to use it to his advantage when he did, old magic or no old magic. This knowledge was power.

He had warned her about being used as a key. In his arrogance, he hadn't even considered the reverse. But now, with Sarah missing, and after Corvin's peculiar mannerisms, he saw the possibility. If Corvin demanded something of him...to protect Sarah, there was little he wouldn't do.

He slammed his fist into the wall.

_Damn it all._

" _Jareth_ ," hissed a dark voice behind him. "I was hoping I'd find you."

Jareth's eyes snapped open as he turned to the speaker. " _Where. Is. She?"_

Corvin looked momentarily surprised at the question, but schooled his expression quickly. "Where is…who?'

Jareth moved inches from Corvin's face, shattering any pretense of easy discussion. "You know _exactly_ who," he growled. " _Where. Is. Sarah?_ "

With a tilt of his head, a small grin broke across Corvin's face as he realized Jareth played no part in the girl's sudden disappearance from the dungeon. He had wondered, what with Jareth's uncanny ability to interfere in his affairs, but now…now, he need not deviate from what he intended. The girl could not have gone far, not with Jareth still here. He would deal with Jareth, and then he would deal with _her._

"We just had a fascinating discussion. Actually," he paused, grinning wider, "she didn't play much of a role in the discussion. It might be more accurate to say I informed her of some fascinating mistakes she'd made." He made a subtle shrugging motion. "Pity it had to end the way it did."

Jareth's heart missed a beat. Sarah was still alive—he _felt_ it through the Oath—but the strange glint in Corvin's eyes did not hint of a lie. He had taken her, spoken with her, done who knows what…he growled again. "She is _mine._ "

"Of that I'm well aware," Corvin answered, scowling. "She didn't seem to have the slightest clue about her match, however. Another pity."

Mismatched eyes narrowed at the familiar term. "Enough games, Corvin. Sarah will not bring war. Your battle is with me, not her."

Corvin snorted. "Seems you don't have the slightest clue, either." He shook his head. "There really is no point in me asking, then."

"Asking _what_?"

Corvin paused, now thinking it most doubtful that Jareth knew any more about the meaning within the text, but his curiosity won out. Plus, if he laid the trap right, there was the chance Jareth would offer up something he could use against him. Corvin pulled the text out from the crook of his arm, and opened it to the only marked page. "Arlyck seems to think you and Sarah have been working on something else. Something secreted in the final line that will fully repair the Above. So tell me," he drawled, pointing to the final line, "are you hiding the truth to this _victory_?"

_Arlyck…_ Jareth's fists clenched unconsciously. Corvin didn't appear to know everything, but his question was pointed, too much so for him not to suspect something specific. He tried deflecting. "You have seen that the solution is tied to Sarah ruling and remaining—"

" _Yes_ , so you've both mentioned. Repeatedly. And yet, the Above remains stalled, and at no point did you mention her possessing a weapon of _old magic._ "

An eerie silence settled in the hallway after the echo subsided, spurred on by the competing glares of the two fey. Jareth could think of no prudent response in the moment. Corvin's knowledge of her old magic was one thing he'd most feared.

"So I will ask you again," Corvin said lowly, finally breaking the silence. "Unless you'd rather I do what I should have done already, tell me what you and the girl are _planning_."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" A feminine voice scoffed, boots clicking in confident rhythm. "Asshole."

Jareth froze at the sound of her voice, shocked both by sight and sound. It suddenly felt as if everything Underground had stalled like the Above.

_Sarah._

She had somehow conjured back her earlier outfit, but her look was anything but familiar. Gloved hands clenched at her sides, stride steady and assured. His face traced up to see her eyes rimmed with kohl and ablaze with something wild and unknown. He knew she couldn't cast in these walls but still, she _radiated._

She strode up to Corvin. "You want my old magic? Fine. Come and get it. You and me. Outside. This ends now."

It took Corvin a moment to compose himself, but then, he took in her words. She truly thought she stood a chance against him? She barely understood her place in the text. He grinned. "With _pleasure_ , Madam Aries."

Jareth finally came back to his senses. " _Sarah—"_ But she and Corvin had already bounded down the hall.

She must have realized he hadn't immediately followed because she turned her head back before they rounded the corner. "You too, Jareth. I've _truly_ _accepted_ this is how is has to be."

Her look was pointed and Jareth's eyes widened in understanding. She had figured out what she needed to accept.

_Oh, Sarah. My beautiful, brilliant, precious thing._

Jareth had never moved so quickly in his life to catch up to her.

* * *

The courtyard was empty when Sarah strode into the dawn, Corvin trailing at her heels. She frowned imperceptibly. She trusted that Hoggle would find a way to convince the High King to follow. She just had to give him more time.

_Distract and delay. Play off his weaknesses and keep him off-guard until the High King arrives. He couldn't stand it earlier when I called him afraid…_

She stopped near the courtyard's center, a rounded fountain set with several statutes of what she assumed were denizens of the kingdom, and leaned back against its edge. As she placed her hands on both hips, she sent him what she hoped was a sufficiently pitying grin. "I'm actually surprised this wasn't what you tried earlier. Were you scared about facing my old magic?"

A muscle near Corvin's eye twitched, but as before, he said nothing. Still, Sarah knew she'd found her sweet spot.

"And you even dragged the other four Council members into it." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Were they meant to take over when you failed? Or do you just need moral support when you challenge women?"

She thought she heard Jareth snicker, but she forced herself to keep her focus on Corvin. Distracted or not, she didn't trust him not to spontaneously try something. She now understood her old magic, and she had the added rush of Jareth's own, but he still had decades of experience on her. Perhaps centuries. And this was not a simple chess match.

Still, Corvin said nothing. She crossed her arm neatly and tried another angle.

"But I suppose you could have just wanted me to confirm what you'd discovered to your Council cohorts. Did they not believe you?" She snorted. "You did have it pretty wrong." A lie, but he didn't need to know it. And if the reddening in his face was any indication, he was absorbing every word.

Something gold and pale-haired glinted out of the corner of her eye.

She cleared her throat and flexed her fingers in front of her. It was time. "Before we do this, would you like to know what the text actually means?"

"You made it quite clear you had no idea, _girl_."

_Oh I've definitely gotten to him if he'd dropped the 'Madam Aries' business._

She made an exaggerated show of scoffing at him. "Like I would tell you anything when you had me trapped in a dungeon." She made sure the words rang loud and clear. She needed the High King to hear what followed.

Corvin was breathing heavy now, wrought with fury. He took two measured steps towards her. "And just how did you manage to escape?" He bit out.

"A friend," she spoke fiercely. "And with the help of someone else who knew your plan and who understood you were severely mistaken for believing the solution to the Above was to kill me." Again, a lie—she wasn't quite sure of Arlyck's motives—but given he'd aided her, she thought he'd understand later why she'd framed her answer as such.

Corvin's eye twitched again, likely maddened now by the thought that his own confidants had plotted against him. If Jareth's grudge against Hoggle was any indication, loyalty was fundamental for the fey.

Just over Corvin's head, she could see now that the golden figure had descended the marble steps and was watching the scene with rapt attention.

It was now or never.

"Me ruling and remaining is essential, but that's only half the battle. What truly matters is _why_ I choose to stay. Why I want to rule and remain; why I _accept_ it. Not out of duty or guilt." Her eyes found Jareth's and she smiled softly. She needed him to know, no matter what he felt. "But because I've found my match. The one I'll love, forever upon this time or the next, no matter what."

Sarah paused for emphasis, then drilled her focus back on Corvin. "And that, _Corvin_ , is the _truth_ _accepted_. That is the victory won."

She made the wish.

The effects were immediate and Sarah couldn't stop herself from stumbling hard. But as the dizziness took over completely, she lost track of Corvin. Things were spinning, ground unsteady. Something whizzed past her head and then a white-hot flash, causing her to instinctively flinch, one hand raised to her face as if to ward off the light. Figures were rushing closer…

" _ENOUGH_ ," she heard the High King bellow, and the dawn instantly swallowed the light.

Voices rose in an uproar, but the dizziness wasn't ebbing, and the whir was unintelligible and quickly fading. She fell to her knees. Her head was throbbing.

And the last thing Sarah saw before she fainted, the ghost of a smile at her lips, was the petrified face of the Council member.

* * *

A flicker of consciousness told her that the room was too warm. The silks wrapped too tightly. She shifted, trying to kick out one leg from her bindings, but only succeeded in wrapping herself tighter.

"Easy, girl," a steady voice commanded.

Dark blue eyes met her own as she woke, and Sarah jolted upright, shaking off the last visages of sleep to gape at the man sitting beside the bed. What had happened? Where was she? A quick check confirmed, thankfully, that she was still dressed in her leathers, but the rest was hazy. "Your Majesty, I.."

"Calm yourself. I merely require a brief word with you." The High King waited for Sarah's slow nod before he continued. "That was quite the performance." Sarah made to speak, but his raised hand cut her off. "Easy. I mean only that I was…surprised by your words. You are not at all what I assumed." He raised an eyebrow, and the resemblance to Jareth was striking. "My son has obviously been hiding more than his own enchantments. He always has been too headstrong for his own good. But, that is in the past now. The Above has been resolved."

A whoosh of air that she hadn't realized she'd been holding escaped. _Resolved. It was over._ But, her last moments in the courtyard flooded back. "Corvin—"

"Has been relieved of his duties," he cut in forcefully. "As have the rest of the Council. You need not concern yourself with them any longer. Arlyck confirmed your account, and more." His frown was deep, and he hesitated briefly before he sighed. "I find I likely owe you an apology, for being so trusting of them, but my kind are not accustomed to mortals such as yourself and Jareth did not suggest that you were anything more than…" He stopped, then shook his head. "I know not what to make of you, but there is certainly no other human who has both felled and charmed so deeply." And then he stood, leaving Sarah at a momentary loss for words.

"Where is Jareth?" She spoke clearly as the High King finally reached the door. She would have expected— _hoped_ —he would have been waiting for her to wake, not the High King. She swallowed once as an uncomfortable lump settled there.

The High King chuckled softly, turning back to look at her. "Likely stewing in his office. He wasn't pleased that I demanded a word with you first."

Sarah threw back the sheets as soon as he shut the door behind him, and a quick glance around the room confirmed that she was in Jareth's bedchamber. Which meant he _must_ have brought her here. Purposefully. Instead of her own room? Hoggle had said something important about that room, and then, several things clicked all at once. Her recent acceptance made it all clear, and she berated herself for not seeing it sooner.

_The oath, the marking on his door...that kiss._

_The victory already won._

Sarah jumped from the bed and about tripped over her feet on her way to the hall door.

* * *

There weren't any windows on her path to his office, but from the lit sconces, she assumed night was already falling again in the Underground. Meaning, he likely had had the entire day to ruminate over her words.

Jareth's office door was cracked slightly, and even from the hall, she heard the steady click of boots on stone. She quirked a lip at the thought of him pacing all day, but steadied her expression as she leaned into the door.

This time, she had the upper-hand, and she was laying all her cards on the table.

"You know," she started wryly, and he turned instantly, relief evident. "After what your father just said to me, I'm thinking we made this situation much more difficult than it had to be."

That seemed to both startle and amuse him. He raised one eyebrow as he made his way closer, intrigued further by the sight of her tugging sharply at her gloves. "Oh? Do tell."

Sarah nodded, still leaning against the door frame. The gloves were banished to the floor. "Mhmm. Seems as if there was no need to lie about our plans for fixing my world to your father at that Council dinner. Now he knows the truth, and I've received an almost-apology." She grinned, finally pushing off to meet him just inside. "He doesn't know what to make of me, but I'm pretty sure I've gotten his blessing."

He laughed. "Even I don't know what you make of you, precious thing."

Her expression suddenly turned fierce. "Oh I think you know _exactly_ what to make of me. And have for some time," she countered, reaching up to grasp his shirt and pull him closer. Jareth stilled as her face tilted up, lips parted as if she meant to kiss him. But she continued talking, weaving a wisp of fervor into her lines. "You swore an oath to protect me. You tried to show me _exactly_ why you bother. Even your door recognized your intentions, recognized it as truth…" She was close enough now that she saw his pupils start to dilate, heard his breath hitch and turn ragged. She threaded a hand through corn-silk hair. "I just didn't see it."

" _Sa-rah_ —" His throat cracked, her broken name splintering like shards of crystal.

_But what no one knew was that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl._

His plea sent a wave a heat down to her belly. It was time to put him out of his misery. "I only had it half-right about the victory won. It was never just about guilt or lust," she whispered into his lips. "Was it?"

"Oh, _Sarah_ ," he rasped. "If you only knew—"

But his strained response was enough, and she closed the space, pressing her lips to his with unexpected urgency and drawing his body tight to hers. His lips were soft. Fierce. _Hers._ She melted her body against his. And he responded immediately, stealing control as one arm came up to tangle in her hair. Grasping as if he'd never let go. His lips parted, testing, and she took the chance to claim the inside of his mouth as her own, fighting to reclaim dominance. Failing. _Falling._

Sarah found herself suddenly slammed back against the door frame, and she let out a muffled yelp when her feet lifted inches off the ground. "Mfmph—" But he'd taken over again, claiming and caressing, and she wrapped one leg around him to keep steady. She had thought she had the upper hand but… _gods._ When compared to him, she barely knew what she was doing. He moved again, tracking fire down the side of her neck until he met the thrum of her pulse. Lower still, tongue tasting as if parched. Suckling at the spot he _knew_ drove her mad.

Her back arched. "Oh, God, _Jareth—"_

He smiled into her neck, nipping once. " _My Sarah_." One gloved hand rose to cup her cheek, and he met her eyes, confirming. "You love me?" His voice cracked again, rough with desire.

" _Yes_ ," she whispered, almost desperately, eyes never leaving his own. She never meant to fall in love with him, but now, it was all that mattered. He was undoubtedly beautiful, but it was more than that. She loved his playful banter, how he constantly sought to rile her up. How she could match him time after time, only to have him catch her unawares in a whole new game. She loved his strength, how he never let the Council or his father's slight destroy him. She loved how he fought back at every turn; how he fought for _her,_ despite knowing the possible consequences. She loved how his dual-colored eyes filled with mirth or warmth or desire when they met hers, and how his voice shattered what was left of her senses.

She loved that all of it had only ever been for her.

After she said it, something flickered inside those same eyes and then his lips were back on her own. Words were forgotten. Surroundings lost. A hand returned to her hair, the other trailing down her neck, lower still until it graced the swell of her breast. Sarah couldn't stop herself from arching again as his hand firmly grasped it, and leather screeched violently. His ministrations paused momentarily at the sound, and Sarah stole the chance, slipping one hand inside his open shirt to run her nails across his chest. She heard his sharp intake of breath when she found one nipple, and couldn't stop herself from grinning as his hand in her hair clenched. He was breathless, ragged, wanting. All for _her._ A thrill ran through her at the rush of realization, and any hesitance about her plan faded.

She lightly traced her hand lower, her other moving from its place in his hair to boldly return the favor, when his other hand suddenly shot out to grab her wrist at his waist.

" _Sarah,_ " he choked out, a semblance of sense kicking in at where this was headed. "Now is not the time for games. I cannot promise control if you continue." His eyes were fully dilated now and he was shaking slightly, almost pained at the sight of her before him.

She might have given back his power over her, but she knew now she had just as much over him. She knew he wanted her. And by God, she _wanted_ him so much that it ached. Beyond that, her nerves were an afterthought.

"Then lose control," she whispered hotly. "I want you, Jareth. _All of you_."

Sarah barely had time to process his growl before she lost the feel of solid ground, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as he lifted her. The lit sconces met them in an instant. She knew only one place where he would be headed. "What are you doing? Why don't you just transport us?" She half-laughed, half-rasped as the hallways rippled past in a blur.

He found the door to his chambers quickly, not stopping to put her down before he shoved his shoulder into it. "Because that would require control, Sarah," he whispered hot into her ear. "And as always, your wish is my command. It's _lost._ "

_Dear. God._ Sarah swallowed deeply, but his movements never slowed. Without warning, her back fell into the bed, and Sarah watched first as Jareth pulled off both of his gloves with his teeth, then caged his arms around her, leaning in again to steal another kiss. A hand returned to her hair, his other chasing down her side and sliding back until it met the tangle of laces. Sarah felt a sharp tug as he found one of knots, but he growled into her mouth when it stuck. Sarah snickered back. "Regretting the dress now?"

He stopped pulling and sat back on his heels, something guttural still caught in his throat. He ran a hand through his hair. " _Sarah._ " He was clearly struggling, and Sarah giggled again and rolled to her stomach to allow him better access.

One-by-one, Sarah heard a snap as he unlaced the rows at her back. She shivered slightly as cool air met her open back once the last knot was undone. But the feeling was fleeting. His hot breath returned to her ear, his success restoring some of his senses. " _There is nothing I'd rather dress you in._ " He dropped kisses down her neck, slowly allowing the dress to sag as he moved lower down her back. " _My Sarah. My Queen."_ And in one swift motion, he flipped her over.

Sarah was long past her wits, and the sound of him moaning her name, calling her his, sent her over the edge. Warmth had pooled at her nether-regions and the ache was steady. His eyes focused only on her and she could see nothing but raw desire. He was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen and knew she ever would see. And he was hers; forever. That familiar something in her stomach flipped again.

She arched her back slightly, guiding one of his hands to the loose fabric. A shimmy as he tugged, and Sarah found herself nearly bare before him. She couldn't stop her blush. But the sight of him, savoring her like a fine work of art, soon calmed her modesty.

"Beautiful," he murmured, bringing his mouth to one rosy peak and cupping the other as if it were fragile china that would shatter if dropped. And then on to the other; suckling, caressing, and leaving Sarah grabbing desperately at the silks behind her. She knew he was spectacular with his mouth, but… _gods_. He kept moving. Lower still, until he had tracked his mark down to her navel, and Sarah was sure she'd break if he continued. And then, he pushed aside her panties with two fingers and Sarah was certain she did.

" _Gods,_ Jareth," she moaned. "I need you. _Now._ "

She felt him smile into the soft skin of her stomach. "So demanding," he murmured again. But he sat up quickly, pulling his loose shirt over his head. Gray breeches quickly followed and Sarah found her stomach suddenly lodged in her throat at the sight of him as he leaned over her.

He must have heard her breath hitch because he returned his lips to hers, murmuring again. "Do you trust me, Sarah?"

His was such a loaded question, asking so much more of her than that moment. Promises secreted in ancient texts and battles fought over broken words. A battle that was never about defeat, but of mutual conquest. A battle they both had won. She pulled his lips down and that was the only answer needed.

In a swift move, he filled her, and by gods, it _hurt._ But he paused, letting her adjust to the feel of him. And then, she found herself again, and her tongue fighting against his encouraged him to continue, soon finding a rhythm that sent the thrum of her pulse racing. He let her guide him until they came to the edge, and Sarah couldn't stop herself from screaming as pleasure wracked her body. And she fell, exhausted, back into the sheets, now slick with the reminder of their lovemaking. Sharp teeth nipped once at her lips and she heard him murmur something against them, breath ragged.

And as Sarah lost herself in the silks, struggling to keep her eyes open and limbs tangled with those of her Goblin King like the knots of her dress, she swore she heard him whisper that he loved her.


	21. Chapter 21

The stars that night were brilliant. She could barely believe she hadn't thought to catch them at this hour before. Flecks of fire trapped in a wide velvet expanse; in reality, eons apart but pulled together by sight. As with everything, brighter - sharper - than those of her world. Sarah leaned against the open window, satisfied only to stare as her nerves hummed an easy rhythm. She could think of no time she'd been more content.

Jareth's admission had soothed her into dreams only of him. Kisses and caresses that subdued and enflamed. Him, tasting her in more ways than one and claiming her, body and soul, without an uttered word. The ghost of his touch still lingered when she woke. As she regarded him, lost in the space between dreams and reality, she could only smile. He loved her. She loved him. Weeks ago, she'd have thought it impossible that she'd fall for her greatest adversary. That she would trust him with her life. But now, the realization came easier than breathing.

He seemed perfectly content to have been woken by her kiss, and although tired, hers was a fatigue of satisfaction and wills undone. The soreness between her legs a sharp reminder of what she'd won. He must have seen it in her eyes because a few easy words calmed the remnants of their earlier lovemaking. She'd noticed the stars then, leaving the warmth of his arms for that of the midnight sky.

"It's so beautiful tonight," she whispered after a time, looking back to find him watching her from the bed, the sheets precariously pushed downwards. She blushed and turned back to the night. "Is it always like this?"

His smile was wistful when he rose, not bothering like her to wrap himself in robes. Sarah heard him approach and leaned back into his chest as he came up behind her. "It pales in comparison," he whispered as he kissed the spot on her neck he'd repeatedly claimed as his own.

Sarah arched her neck back, unable to contain her soft moan. He would be the death and life of her. "Pales in comparison to what?"

He laughed softly, wrapping her tight against him with one arm and using his other to tilt her face towards his. "To you, love."

She smiled into his kiss, allowing him to turn her fully so he could reach her without twisting uncomfortably. From his lyrics in the ballroom, she should have guessed he'd be a romantic. It had been shielded behind a guise of guilt for so long that she hadn't expected it to fall with her confession. Another misjudgment on her part. This one, most welcome.

One hand moved to tuck the stray hair that had fallen across her face behind an ear, caressing her cheek after he'd returned it and sending a now-familiar thrill to her core. As he coaxed her lips to part, sliding his tongue against her own in a way that made her toes curl, and pulled her back towards the bed, she had little doubt that her inexperience would be forgotten quickly.

This time, the stars witnessed a different sort of brilliance.

* * *

The only thing he heard was pounding. Incessant, unnecessary, _damned_ , pounding. Jareth groaned, rolling to his stomach and bringing a pillow over his head. If someone wasn't dying from some agonizing infliction, they soon would be. His goblins knew better than to bother him while he was in his chambers. Guest or no guest.

"King?" a nervous voice queried. The pounding quickened.

Jareth cracked his eyes open and sighed. The plea was recognizably Skagg's; one of his more capable subjects who was most unlikely to trouble him unless absolutely necessary. Jareth pushed himself up on all fours, and after briefly admiring the sleeping woman curled up beside him, leaving a lingering kiss on her brow, he untangled himself from the sheets.

He conjured a dressing gown on his way to the door, tying the sash into a knot. He opened the door with a scowl. " _What is it_?"

Skagg had reverted to his familiar habit of handwringing and was shuffling his feet, looking anywhere but at the king before him. "Sorry ta bother, King. Buts he says it urgen'."

Jareth's eyes thinned. After yesterday, he saw no reason why his father would return so suddenly. He was well aware he and Sarah would be engaged the prior evening. "Who says it's urgent?"

"Err," Skagg mumbled, rubbing his neck. "Says he work 'ere. Lookin' for Lady."

"Ah…let me go! I needs to know she alright!"

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course it was the bloody dwarf. He waved his hand at Skagg and moved into the doorway, watching the dwarf struggle against two of his goblins some ways down the hall.

" _Hogwart_. I'm beginning to suspect my offer was a mistake."

At the sharp tone, the dwarf in question flinched and stopped squirming. "Yer Majesty. Meant no 'fense, but Sarah fainted, and I hasn't seen 'er since…"

Jareth waved his hand again, and the two goblins released Hoggle. Free of restraint, he ambled closer to the king, obviously intent on making sure Sarah was alright despite the setting. Shaking madly because of it.

"I assure you, she is quite well," Jareth drawled, leaning into the doorframe and crossing his arms.

Hoggle visibly exhaled. After a brief hesitation, he looked up at the king and flinched again when he saw an unnerving grin spread across his face. It was only then that he noticed the king's state of undress, and nerves prodded his stutter into action. "Tha-a…that's g-good…"

"She is presently indisposed, however." The grin became Cheshire, just daring Hoggle to inquire further.

Hoggle paled, feeling his breakfast inching upwards. He knew Jareth. With that grin - that attire - he could imagine where she might be. She'd about told him, herself: Goblin… _Queen_. That alone was enough to snatch away any urge to personally affirm her safety. He might be a coward, but he was no idiot. And no question Jareth wanted asked was worth asking. "Ah…well, I'll…just…go…"

"A wise decision."

Hoggle didn't wait for Jareth's dismissal before he turned tail, running back down the hall where he'd come from. The clang of fallen gemstones followed him, pockets emptying, but never once did Hoggle turn.

The king allowed his grin to linger on the dwarf's fading steps before turning back. When Jareth re-entered his chambers, he saw Sarah had propped herself up against the headboard, holding the sheets to her chest. Her stare was inquisitive.

"Who was that?"

Jareth snorted. "Hoggle felt it necessary to ensure you were well. I assured him you were." He vanished his robe and climbed back in the bed, pulling her into his arms. "He declined to check for himself," he concluded wryly.

Sarah reddened immediately. "Oh." She brought a hand up to her eyes, allowing the sheet to slip slightly as she considered the mindset of her friend. "Was he...okay?" She'd explained her feelings in the courtyard, and he knew she'd become Goblin Queen, but this sort of intimacy was not something she expected Hoggle to accept easily.

Jareth placed another kiss on her neck, nipping, and pulled her back down against the mattress. "He'll be fine. I'm more concerned about a certain wife who kept her husband up half the night."

She laughed as his mouth reclaimed her own. "I recall it being mutual."

"Semantics."

His hands cradled her neck again as he shifted on top of her, brushing a soft kiss against her lips when she suddenly pushed back. "Wait!"

He pulled up, frowning. "What?"

"Hoggle," she grinned, and something close to mirth danced in her hazel-green eyes. "I knew you knew his name."

For a second, confusion reigned, but then he blinked, and it was replaced with resignation. He lifted a corner of lips just slightly. "I can make forgetting such worth your while."

She laughed again as his hands moved lower. "Oh?" she asked, trying her best to seem more innocent than intrigued. She knew it hardly fooled him; not after what he'd done to her - what they'd done to each other - last night. Innocence had been lost with the setting of the sun.

"Mhmm," he purred, and the sensation of deft fingers filling her, stroking folds that recognized the heat of his motion, pushed all thoughts of dwarves and their unimportant names from her mind.

* * *

When they woke again, it was nearly noon. They dined in Jareth's rooms, still unready to share each other's presence with others in the castle. As Sarah blew on another spoonful of soup, she broke the silence. "I'll need to go back today."

Jareth's spoon rattled against his bowl. "Excuse me?"

"To tell my family...something. My friends, too. Pick up some of my things." She laughed as she watched him exhale. "I don't want them just thinking I've disappeared. It was technically my birthday while I was here. I'm sure I've been reported missing." She wasn't quite sure _what_ she'd tell them yet. Moved to a remote location overseas? Eloped with a high school sweetheart? She disliked the idea of lying to them - especially Toby - but found it doubtful they'd believe the truth. Unless magic was involved, of course.

"Of course. I can take you today. In time, you'll learn to do it on your own."

She perked up. "Really? I can visit?"

He nodded. "For brief periods, yes. But as Goblin Queen, you will be compelled to return after a time. A day at most."

She wondered what sort of leeway that provided. "I know our situation is unique, but do you expect issues here if I explained what actually happened? Where I am? I'd prefer my family to know the truth, but I doubt I'll be able to convince them without using magic."

He seemed to consider her words before shaking his head softly. "I think not if that's what you wish. After recent events, I suspect you have a bit of sway over my father. With the Council currently disbanded, there's no one else to challenge it." He grinned. "And Arlyck wouldn't dare argue against my father and me."

* * *

They decided to visit her family first.

According to Jareth, it was Sunday in her world and she knew her family typically spent the day at home. And if anyone had filed a police report, it would have been her father: an attorney. It also made logistical sense to visit her friends and campus apartment together afterward.

The lights were on in the front windows of the Victorian when they appeared. Someone was home. Sarah stuck her arm through Jareth's, took a deep breath, and rung the bell. Karen's sharp reply that she was _coming_ reverberated through the wood, but died at the opening of the door.

"Robert! Get out here!"

Sarah smiled weakly when Karen's gaze darted back and forth between Sarah and Jareth. Mostly resting on Jareth.

She intended on telling them the truth, but perhaps the outfits had been a mistake. She remembered all too well not being able to take her eyes off Jareth that night in her room. Still, when matched with Jareth's markings, her own subtly sharpened features, and matching insignias, they appeared anything but normal. Regal. Otherworldly. And that was the intent.

Robert was quick to appear, reading a heavy tome and barely watching where his feet fell. The book echoed spectacularly on the marble flooring near the door. "Sarah? My God, where have you been? Your friend called when he couldn't reach...," he trailed off, realizing Sarah's arm was curled tightly around Jareth. His eyes widened, then narrowed. "Who is this?"

Another steadying breath. "This is Jareth. Can we come in? I can explain, but I'd rather not do it on the front porch."

Neither Williams looked thrilled after her implied warning, but Karen stepped aside and gestured for them to enter, not ever taking her eyes off Jareth. Sarah pulled Jareth inside and veered right. As expected, the living room was spotless, a consequence of Karen's obsession with order that had once irritated Sarah immensely. It was strangely comforting now, and Sarah hesitated only briefly before leaning back into the meticulously placed pillows on the loveseat. Her father and stepmother each claimed a dated, floral armchair across. Just staring. Waiting for the proverbial anvil to drop. Robert cleared his throat.

Sarah felt Jareth squeeze her hand, encouraging her to begin. Apologies always were a wise place to start. "I'm sorry that I worried you. And for just showing up without calling." She paused, watching closely for a sign the maneuver worked but noticed no change in their stern expressions. "We did come as soon as we could."

Well, _almost_. She willed her blush to settle.

"Where have you been? Please don't tell me you've thrown away your education to join some bizarre circus."

Sarah shook her head at her father, a wry smile threatening. "A kingdom actually, but bizarre wouldn't be far off."

His eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me? A _what?_ "

"Well...it might be easier if I started at the beginning. This is going to sound crazy, but when I was fifteen, I wished Toby away to the goblins. And it worked."

Not waiting for their questions, Sarah quickly recounted how Toby had disappeared like magic with her wish. How the Goblin King, equally terrifying and captivating, had thrown open the window and offered Sarah her dreams in exchange for her brother. How she'd refused, and spent nearly ten hours racing through a labyrinth filled with magic and almost indescribable, but fiercely loyal, creatures. Friends she kept over the years that mattered more to her than those at college. How she'd made it to the center, rescued her brother, and returned home, victorious. How she'd realized soon after that something was terribly, magically, wrong. How time had slowed, skipped, then _stopped_. How she and Jareth found a way to fix it, in the Underground. She paused there, waiting to see how her parents reacted before she dropped the news of her queendom. Neither Williams had interrupted during her story, despite opening their mouths several times as if they'd meant to. It was unclear if they believed her.

Neither spoke immediately when she finished, but Sarah's father's eyes narrowed again at Jareth. "You need to leave."

"Dad?"

Robert Williams stood, pointing a shaking finger out into the hallway. "Upstairs, Sarah. Now. I don't know what this man has done to brainwash you, but I'll figure out how to fix it."

"He hasn't brainwashed me, dad," Sarah insisted, sighing. Of all the times to suddenly become overprotective. "I'm telling you the truth. Magic is real. The Underground exists."

"Sarah—"

"Sit down, Robert," Karen scolded, and Robert snapped his eyes towards her, startled. "And take a good look at them."

He looked but didn't sit. In his silence, Karen leaned forward slightly in her chair. She too focused on the king. "Who are you?" But there was something in her question that convinced Sarah she already knew. That she believed her or at least was trying to.

"You may call me Jareth," the king answered calmly. "But I am also known by another title."

"Goblin King. Of this...Underground?"

"Precisely," he crooned. Jareth grinned then as the woman's eyes darted to Sarah, then to him, then back to Sarah again. When she again looked back at him, he twisted the wrist not holding onto Sarah to end the speculation. He offered the shimmering crystal towards the pair. "Everything Sarah has said is true."

The memory of the king in the window flickered inside and even from a distance, he could tell both Williams matched the faces to those on the loveseat. In an instant, years passed, and the image shifted to them sitting across a disordered desk, reading a familiar ancient book. Then to them playing chess, and his proffering a melting crystal in an office. He allowed Sarah's parents a short glimpse of them dining at his father's castle, dressed in their same finery, before he vanished the crystal.

"I don't understand," Robert whispered, falling back into his chair.

Karen smiled faintly, knowingly; as only a woman and mother could. She again looked to the king. "Do you love her?"

"More than anything."

She nodded and stood. That was all that mattered. "Then I'm happy for you both."

Karen assured Sarah she'd explain it to her father as they walked towards the hallway. "He's in denial, I'm afraid. You never dated much and I think he still believes you're his little girl with flowers in her hair, pretending to be a princess."

Sarah laughed and returned Karen's unexpected hug. Things had been better between them after that night, but still, the affection was a surprise. Motherly instinct? "Just remind him I did one better. I'll visit again soon." She jutted her head towards the staircase when Karen pulled back. "Is Toby asleep? I know he won't understand, but I wanted to let him know too."

"He is, but go ahead. It's better he heard it from you."

Toby's door creaked slightly as Sarah pushed it open, expecting to find her brother wrapped in his tri-colored comforter. Instead, he was kneeling before his table of toys, a figurine in both hands. To Sarah, one appeared to be bashing the other into the wood, but they both clattered down together as Toby charged towards his sister. "Sarah!"

"Hey, squirt," she said fondly, ruffling his hair as he wrapped his arms around one leg. "You're supposed to be sleeping."

"Not sleepy," he claimed, then yawned. "Why you home? Bring me present?"

Sarah laughed, then kneeled down to his eye level. "You bet. I want you to meet someone. This is Jareth. He's my special friend, and I'm going to be living with him now." She smiled softly, picking up her pendant. "And he's a magical king."

" _Wow."_ He let go of Sarah to stare at the king in awe. "He do magic?"

Sarah laughed again. "Yep. And now I can too. Watch."

With Jareth's magic, she wasn't sure she still needed to do so, but out of habit, she wished for what she wanted. Jareth had assured her it would work. The small crystal popped into existence in the palm of one hand, and she held it out for Toby. "This is for you. It's a magical phone. If you need me, just hold it really tight and call out my name. I'll be able to hear you. Just don't tell mom I gave it to you, okay?"

"'Kay!" Toby snatched the crystal, bringing it smack up to his face to look at the sparkles inside. The obstruction didn't prevent Sarah from seeing him he try – and fail – to hold in another yawn.

Sarah ruffled his hair again and lifted him into her arms. He yawned once more, still holding onto the crystal, as Sarah tucked him into bed. "Don't cause mom too much trouble, squirt. I love you. I'll see you soon."

"'Kay," Toby whispered, already half-asleep, as the pair disappeared.

* * *

The campus coffee shop was bustling as they entered, the little bell over the door almost unheard over the clank of mugs and roar of co-eds. Sarah smoothed out her black sweater before checking on Jareth, marks glamoured, and black armor temporarily replaced with a crisp white button-down shirt and tight black jeans. He was unsurprisingly attractive even when feigning to be human.

James was behind the counter, writing some name down on a little plastic cup. "Small half-caf, low fat, skinny vanilla latte," he yelled back to the girl by the machines. He handed her the cup with a roll of eyes. "Extra whip."

"One lemon poppy-seed muffin, please."

James _jumped_ , and Sarah laughed as he spun back around to the register. "Sarah! Where the hell have you been? You missed your own party."

"Sorry to worry you. Something unexpected came up." Sarah conveyed the story she'd concocted about Jareth surprising her with a sudden birthday trip. All expenses paid. In all the rush to make her flight, she'd forgotten to let him know. And then she'd been…distracted. It was the best she could do in short notice, but James nodded along as she lied.

"You didn't tell me you had a boyfriend. James," he offered a brief wave to the man standing at Sarah's side. "Nice to meet you."

The king nodded in return. "And you."

"There's something else, James. I'm sorry for the short notice, but I'm afraid I have to drop my shift here. I'm transferring."

"Transferring? Where?"

"A small school in the U.K. It's near where Jareth lives." With his accent, she knew Jareth could pass for a Brit. To her, it was the most believable cover story to combine with a surprise, romantic get-away. "Can you let Amy and Steve know, too? I promise to keep in touch."

"You better." James shook his head, then mussed up his already messy brown hair as he ran a hand back through it. "I don't think I'll ever understand you, Sarah, but I hope it works out. I'll miss you, you know."

"Thanks, James. Me too." She offered her hand. "Now how about that muffin?"

* * *

They visited her apartment last. It was unclear if authorities had investigated; nothing seemed out of place.

Her poor shucked rainboots and battered umbrella greeted them at the entrance and Sarah regarded them fondly, the last visages of her old life before Jareth returned. She handed them to Jareth pointedly and they vanished with a twist of wrists. She doubted she'd need them Underground, but she was sentimental.

Her room, unsurprisingly, looked just as she left it, save for the nightstand clock that glowed 4:47. She wanted her pictures now. Sets of familiar clothes that she wasn't ready to abandon. Some books. At her signal, Jareth repeated his motion. With her magic, she could have likely wished any of them to her from the Underground, but being here gave her closure. She'd have to cancel her lease and vacate everything before the semester was up, but she had a little time.

_Time._ Her little black-bound journal rested on the floor beside her bed. Jareth would at least get a kick out her meticulous marking. She picked it up with a wry grin and handed it to him. "This was why I was so exhausted when you arrived."

He took the book wordlessly and flipped open the cover. He snorted. "You attempted to keep track? By the minute?"

"It got so bad I had to try. I kept forgetting what day it was supposed to be." She nodded over at him. "Last page."

He chuckled again but didn't hesitate to flip to the back. And froze, looked up at her, then down again. And laughed.

"It wasn't funny, Jareth. I was barely getting enough sleep to function."

He shook his head. "You misunderstand. I'm laughing at the hours, not you." He handed her the journal, still open to the back, and called a crystal. It shifted into a familiar ancient book in an instant. "I believe none of us had rightly guessed the middle line, but only you would have been able to."

She furrowed her brow and read the tallies again.

_January 1st, 1990: 8 hours_

_February 24th, 1990: 9 hours_

_March 11th, 1990: 10 hours_

_March 20th, 1990: 11 hours_

_March 26th, 1990: 12 hours_

_March 29th, 1990: 13 hours_

Jareth's voice was a melodic backdrop. " _When Aries reaches the apex of Its rule, what comes past shall remain._ You reached thirteen hours, Sarah. The Labyrinth's only rule. Your wishing likely did little that night; at that peak, you were foretold to return and remain."

She too froze, but then covered her face and groaned. "I didn't even _think_ about the tallies."

He chuckled again, and notes of warm honey and rich silk caressed the space near her ear. "I wouldn't trouble yourself over it. You solved what mattered." He dropped a soft kiss against her neck, pulling her against him to prove his point. "Is there anything else you desire now?" At the shake of her head, he returned them below. They reappeared in the throne room.

Sarah recognized immediately something was different.

"Given the haste with which we wed and the events that followed, I hadn't had the opportunity to show you. I had intended on providing something similar but you'll be amused to know this particular change was not my doing. As you've discovered with my door, your connection to the magic of this castle runs deep."

Jareth's throne had not changed: its curved armrests slightly rusting and ending inwards with a curl of horns. The seat of stone solid but strangely fragile. But it had been shifted just left, just enough to clear a space for a companion. Smaller, but like her pendant, an unmistakable match. Sarah smiled faintly. "It's perfect. There's only one problem."

"Oh?"

"Mhmm." She moved then, around the carve-out in the floor, to settle herself in the smaller seat. A spark of mischief seeped into her smile. "Now I don't have an excuse to share yours."

His eyes darkened. With little more than a flick of fingers, he vanished his own throne, took several measured steps towards his queen, and started to unclasp his winged breastplate.

Forever would never be long enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all who had read, bookmarked, reviewed, or given kudos - my everlasting thanks! This one is complete! Stay safe out in the chaos.
> 
> \- Rayac

**Author's Note:**

> This is (almost) complete - one chapter to finalize. Expect drama, romance, riddles, and a really important book.


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